The Reason My World Turns
by freewingnsketch
Summary: AU. Kelly Gibbs survived the accident. She is now 20 years old, training to be an NCIS agent. After coming home for break, she goes missing and Gibbs must outwit a murderer he put away a decade ago. All characters featured. Very family-centric. 2nd story
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the NCIS characters.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was sitting on a plane headed for Mexico. Sitting and waiting. He resented the fact that he wasn't the one flying the 727. He couldn't make it go any faster. He had thought about driving – at least he'd have control over the vehicle; he'd have been able to feel the rumble of the engine and the breeze passing through the windows. He could have slammed his foot on the accelerator and seen the speedometer needle whip to the right. But flying would get him there sooner. The quicker he was finished, the quicker he could get home.

Home.

Could he really call it that anymore? She was his home. Was.

His chest felt hollow, as though the part of his heart reserved for her had deflated and left too much space. At any moment, his ribs would cave in and a jumble of useless pieces would crash to where his heart had been.

Shannon.

Her hair, auburn, flowing loosely over her slight shoulders. Her hands, soft and smooth, woven through his calloused, roughened fingers. Her smile, holding years of love and secrets only he knew about. Her eyes, wide, clear green, passed on to Kelly...

Kelly.

A tube entering her throat, an IV hooked to her arm, several stitches crowning her forehead, medical tape and splints bracing a few tiny fingers. His last image of Kelly was her small frame covered by a white sheet, sleeping as quietly as she did any other night. But she had been broken and he was the one that let it happen.

Jethro didn't know if she was ever going to forgive him for this, but it was something he needed to do. He didn't know if it was right or wrong or if it was going to make his world turn again, but on some level, it would help him, and hopefully Kelly, to move forward one step at a time. He was going to make first step for them.

"Enjoy your stay in Mexico."

And now was the time to take it.

* * *

Breathing in time with his heartbeat, he waited.

Check wind. Check cover. No one. Good.

Gravel crunched beneath the pick-up's tires.

Crosshairs align.

He made sure to pocket the tiny gold casing.

* * *

The plane landed with an hour to spare. That would be enough time to go back to the house, take a shower, get dressed, and get to the funeral. He didn't want to think about anything else.

He made it to the cemetery ten minutes before the service began. Hands patted his shoulders and back and he blindly accepted hugs from friends. He watched the pastor read passages and speak to the people that had gathered, but the words that reached his ears slid together as though he was under water. Jethro couldn't feel his face or his arms or his legs. He sat in his chair and stared at his hands.

His eyes closed.

It would take longer than forever to adjust to the empty space at his side where she should be.

"I'm sorry about everything that happened, Mr. Gibbs," said a small voice in front of him.

Jethro paused for just a moment, then opened his eyes to see that everyone had left except for Kelly's best friend, Maddie Tylor, and a woman he faintly recognized as her mother.

"Maddie, let Mr. Gibbs be. I'm sorry Jethro. So sorry. We're going to miss Shannon so much," she said, her face full of sadness.

He looked up at her and attempted a weak smile, but nothing came. Instead, he took Maddie's tiny hand. She stepped closer, letting him guide her, and looked straight into his eyes. Jethro could see that hers were rimmed red. The girl lifted her free hand, gently put it underneath his eye, and wiped away something wet from his cheek. He held her palm to his face, feeling the warmth that emanated from it.

"Thank you, Maddie."

* * *

He could never shake the smell of antiseptics that filled hospitals. Too many times had he been forced to endure emergency rooms and intensive care units, all accompanied by the overpowering stink of blood and floor cleaner. This time, however, another scent was thrown into the mix, one Jethro had hoped he would never sense in a hospital. The smell of Kelly.

Strawberry shampoo combined with earth and flowers from the back yard and a hint of sawdust. It didn't belong here amongst the tubes and monitors and stethoscopes. He just wanted to pick her up and whisk her back home where they would begin to accept what had happened, to mend together. He could have kicked himself when he found out that she had woken up asking for him while he was in another country taking care of the situation.

Jethro sat next to her bed and watched his daughter slowly recover. Nurses had taken out the tube from her throat when she had started to breath stronger on her own. No longer was he counting time by seconds, minutes, or hours, but rather by the rise and fall of her fragile chest. Only twice had he left Kelly's side since he returned from the funeral: once to go to the head, another to get a decent cup of coffee so he wouldn't bow into sleep. She had not moved the slightest bit.

He took her hand, small and limp, in his own to feel its size and shape and smoothness. So many times he had taken it to guide her, provide comfort, or simply know she was there. When she was born, he'd made it his duty that, with every last fiber of his being, he would protect her until his dying day. It hadn't been from some stupid third grade crush or a pet that got hit by a car. Her mother had been taken from her and he had been the one to push the rock over the edge. But now...

"Dad?" Kelly opened her groggy eyes just enough to see him sitting beside her bed.

"Yeah, Kell, I'm here." Jethro took a quick inventory of all the things that might be causing her pain. Unfortunately, he couldn't look at her heart. "How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy." She rolled onto her side and made a feeble attempt to squeeze his hand. He held hers tighter.

"Do you need anything? Are you hungry?"

"No. Just sleepy." She looked at him and began to smile, but it morphed into a frown. "Why weren't you here when I woke up last time?"

He had already decided to tell her the story later – much later. "I had some stuff to take care of. I'm sorry. I should have been here. I'll be here with you until we go back home." He could tell by the way she looked at him that she knew he was holding something back.

"I missed you."

"I know, kiddo. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

It had always marveled him how lightly she took tough situations. She would forgive others in a heartbeat, something inherited from Shannon, no doubt.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"When can we go home?"

He took in her state for the millionth time that day. Broken and torn. Battered and bruised. Thrown around like a rag doll. All he wanted to do was to make her better again. He wanted to promise her that she would be safe forever, that no one would harm her or make her upset. But in that moment, he realized that it was the other way around. He was the one that was crumbling, squirming in agony. It dawned on him that she was the one who kept him safe, sane. She was the reason he was here, grounded. Everything else in the world had shed its importance except for the tiny replica of Shannon before him. She was his own, personal gravity. The universe meant nothing, now, if she was not there.

"Soon, Kell. Soon."


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the NCIS characters

NCIS – 12 years later

Complete with three-inch flaming platforms and a Caf-Pow! in hand, Abby skipped out of the elevator into the squad room. The chains that hung from her front to back pockets chimed in time to her steps as well as her bouncing pigtails. Looking around, she spied McGee's desk and ran straight for him.

"Oh my gosh McGee, aren't you excited?"

"Excited about what, Abby?" he asked, not bothering to break the rhythm of his rapid typing.

She looked at him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Little Gibbs is coming back today!"

His fingers stopped. "Kelly? Today?" he questioned, looking up at her, puzzled.

"Do you know another Little Gibbs?" She took a large gulp of her Caf-Pow!

"No. I just thought she wasn't coming home until the 9th."

"Today is the 9th, Timmy."

Tim looked at his inspirational quote desk calendar. He had forgotten to rip off a whole week's worth of pages. "Oh."

"Ahh! I can't wait. I wonder how much she's grown, how much she's learned. I haven't seen her in forever."

"Abby, you just saw saw her before she left for training camp. It was like, three weeks ago."

"Four weeks, Timothy. That's practically a whole month. I miss her."

Tony and Ziva rounded the corner and dropped their bags at their desks. Ziva's ears were perked, listening to the conversation. "Miss who, Abby?"

"Little Gibbs. She's coming back today."

"No way!" Tony exclaimed, surprised, but still very excited. "She's not supposed to come back until the 9th."

"It is the 9th, Tony. Jeez, you guys must really be wrapped up with this case."

"It will be good to see her again," Ziva said.

"More than just good. It'll be great!" Tony practically shouted. His enthusiasm was cut short, however, when Gibbs suddenly entered the bullpen and faced Tony and Ziva.

"What did you get from the warehouse?" he asked.

Ziva stepped forward to report her findings. "The warehouse manager stated that only two of his employees other than Jenks were allowed access that night. Both have alibis on account that they were working at the same station from 2100 to 0500. Neither heard the gunshots."

"Get anything from the security cameras?"

"Just about to upload those, Boss."

"Get on it, DiNozzo. Abby, did you get anything from those casings?"

"Oh yeah, that's why I came up here. The casing found in the back left tire was a 98% match to another found three weeks ago from a case in northern Maryland."

"Who did it belong to?"

"Already way ahead of you, Gibbs." She snatched the plasma remote from McGee's desk and brought up a mug shot of a middle-aged man with a full beard and coke-bottle glasses. "Meet Nathaniel Richardson. Well, actually, re-meet. This isn't his first encounter with the law. He was arrested four years ago for aiding in a robbery. The other casing found in the victim doesn't have a match in the database, but I called some buddies at this place I used to hang out at who really owed me one because of this time that I –"

"Abbs." He shot her a stern look and she sent an apologetic one back.

"They don't sell it, their buddies don't sell it, and by buddies, I mean practically every ammo supplier throughout the East coast. I ran some shavings through Major Mass spec just to get an idea of what we're dealing with and I found random metals that are more likely to explode than fire accurately from a gun. There were also no brands on the casing other than your typical marks and scratches from the actual firing. I'm running a partial print from the second bullet now."

"Are you telling me that this guy had ammo custom made from an outside source?"

"No. I'm telling you that he probably made them himself."

"Boss, Pinner mentioned something about his workshop being cleaned. There were definitely molds and handheld torches down there," McGee interjected.

"McGee, pull up an address."

"Gibbs! When I said I was ahead of you, I meant it." She handed him a sticky note with the street number.

"Let's go." Gibbs pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and grabbed his gun and badge. He turned to make his way to the elevator when he was stopped short by Abby watching every move he made. "Got something else, Abbs?"

"Do you know when Kelly's coming?" she asked in a slight voice.

"Her train gets in at 4. Maddie's picking her up."

Abby's face lit up. "So they'll probably pick up something to eat, so that will probably take them about an hour, and with traffic it'll be about another half hour, and if..."

"Great work, Abbs." He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Now go find out who that fingerprint belongs to."

* * *

Several hours later

Team Gibbs entered the squad room with a handcuffed Joseph Pinner in tow.

"Ziva, put him in an interrogation room. I'll be down in five."

Ziva yanked at his arm and guided him through the bullpen. Jethro was about to drop off his gun and badge at his desk when a buzzing at his hip caught his attention.

"Yeah. Gibbs."

_"Hey, Dad."_

His voice picked up a bit. "Hey, Kell."

_"I'm about five minutes away."_

"I'll send someone sign you in."

_"Alright. Thanks. I'll let you go."_ He could hear her laughing through her smile. _"Get back to work."_

"Sure thing, Boss." He flipped his phone shut.

Grinning to himself, Gibbs rode the elevator down to autopsy. Spotting Ducky at his desk, Gibbs walked up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I hope you're not looking for something new, Jethro, because I don't have anything, unless you wanted me to confirm or deny a theory, that is."

"Not looking for anything but a friend, Duck."

Ducky turned in his chair. "Now, that, I can provide."

"Kelly's coming today."

"Did you think I'd forgotten?"

"Not at all. Can you sign her in at the front desk in five minutes?"

"Oh. Absolutely."

With a clap on the shoulder, Jethro headed for the sliding doors.

"Thanks Duck. I'll be in interrogation."

* * *

A strong, icy blast of winter hit Dr. Mallard's face when he pushed open the front door to NCIS headquarters. Shielding his eyes against the freezing wind, he tried to keep control of his jacket that was whipping around his legs. His nickname cut through the air.

"Ducky!"

Kelly Gibbs was waving at him from a car parked at the curb. He slowly ambled toward her, curling into the wind and treading carefully so as not to slip on any ice that the sidewalk salt had yet to melt.

"Ah, there you are," Ducky managed to sound out. "My dear, you must be freezing."

She was wearing only a pair of jeans, a running jacket, and boots.

"It's not too bad," she said with a shrug, but shivering all the same. Once Kelly had lifted her duffel bag out of the back seat and waved goodbye to Maddie, he offered her his arm and they cautiously proceeded towards the doors. Sweet relief of the heated lobby soon surrounded them and Kelly dropped her bag to give Dr. Mallard a proper hug. They embraced each other as a grandfather and granddaughter would.

"It's so nice to see you again, Ducky."

"And you as well, my dear." She took in his warm smile and could not help but return one of her own.

"I take it Dad's in the middle of a case," Kelly mused, heading towards the security desk where the guard asked for her name."Kelly Gibbs. There should be a frequent visitor's pass with my name on it."

"Yes, it's quite a frustrating one. I don't think I've ever seen a suspect slip through so many cracks before."

"Bummer. Maybe Dad'll let me look at the file." The guard handed over her pass. She thanked him and picked up her duffel. "It would be great to add a few more credentials to my application."

They entered an open elevator and Ducky pushed the fourth floor button. The doors closed with a ping.

"Well, I wouldn't pester him too much. He's a little short of caffeine today."

"Uh oh. Who knocked it over this time? Maybe I should have come prepared."

"Timothy."

"Oh McGee," Kelly sighed. "I really can't wait to see everyone again." Her smile was still plastered on her face.

"They are more than excited to see you, too, my dear. Abby especially."

"And I'm especially excited to see her. Not that I'm not thrilled to see you, too, Ducky. It feels like it's been forever."

The elevator had reached the fourth floor and the doors slid open with another ping. They stepped out and Kelly pivoted, feeling Ducky's light squeeze on her upper arm.

"Welcome home, Kelly."

Her arms embraced him once again. "Thank you, Ducky," she whispered into his ear.

She turned, walked into squad room, and sighed. Not one of her dad's team members was at his or her desk.

"Everyone out on a lead?" she asked, plopping her bag next to her father's chair.

"Interrogation, actually. Your father has been at this one for quite some time."

"Shouldn't take too long, I suppose. Maybe I'll go get him some coffee. But first things first. I'm going to say hi to Abby. I'll see you later Ducky."

"Good bye, dear. Don't forget to come down and visit every once in a while."

"Oh I won't." And with that, she turned on her heel and rode the elevator down to Abby's lab. As soon as the elevator doors slid open, blaring beats of electronic metal reverberated through her chest. Kelly smiled to herself, knowing that this was one of the unique traits that truly made NCIS her home. She stepped into the lab and a wave of memories washed over her from when she would hang out with the forensic scientist after school. Dancing around to wild music, marveling at the precision and accuracy of her work, not to mention having the perfect science tutor. Coming back to the present, Kelly silently walked up behind Abby who was examining a specimen through the diopter of a microscope.

"You know Gibbs," Abby said, still adjusting the knobs and dials, "that can be really annoying. And creepy."

"I know what you mean. Dad used to do it to me all the time to make sure I was doing my homework."

After the slightest moment of hesitation, Abby spun on her heels and enveloped Kelly into one of the world's greatest hugs.

"Little Gibbs!" she squealed. "You're finally here! I've been counting down the days since you left. See?"

Kelly looked in the direction that Abby's finger was pointing. Twenty-eight days of Abby's skeleton calendar were crossed off, one by one, with a thick red marker. Kelly didn't think she could smile wider.

"I missed you too, Abby. Training camp sucked without you guys."

"Oh my gosh. How was it? Was it difficult? I've heard so many horrible things about training camp."

"Well, that's because you talk to Tony. The stuff that he said about it made me sick to my stomach and the other rumors that circulate the base beforehand make it sound like you're going to die the first day. But I wasn't the worst of the lot." Her already wind-kissed cheeks flushed with a new wave of pink. "Actually, I thought I did okay."

"I'm sure colors were flying all over the place, what with you being the only offspring of Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

Kelly propped herself against Abby's desk. "Yeah. A lot of his stuff came in handy. You wouldn't believe how many kids don't know the basic signs for tracking a subject through a forest."

"Did you learn anything super cool?"

That was another aspect Kelly loved about Abby. She asked the important questions first and kept the gossip to a minimum whenever Kelly needed someone to talk to.

"Oh my goodness. Loads. Most of it was new combat techniques, though. I'll have to challenge Ziva while I'm here. Probably get my ass kicked like always, but I'd love to try some of that stuff out. The coolest guy taught me the most wicked hold slip I've ever seen."

"A guy, huh?"

"Don't get your hopes up, Abbs. I was one of twelve girls in a group of two hundred. Of course there were guys. Even though the odds seem pretty good, all of the ones I met were losers."

"Good point, but I'm sure that not all of them were losers."

"Well, they pretty much brag to the moon and back until they realize you're the one pinning them to the mat."

"You're becoming just like you dad, Kell."

Heat built up in Kelly's cheeks again. "Enough about me. How have you been for the past month?"

"Not too bad. Not much has been going on – just your basic forensic action. Catchin' the bad guys. Well, technically your dad and Tony and Ziva and McGee are doing that part. I'm just helping them out. I had the coolest case a few weeks ago. Well, I don't know if you'd call it cool because people were dying like clockwork because of it, and people dying is never good, but this guy was using an ancient hunting weapon that's really similar to a javelin except you use this stick thing to launch it called an Atlatl and it goes like 700 feet."

"No way!"

"Yes way. I've totally got a new piece of artwork coming in the mail because of it. It's 1000x magnification of a perfect half-inch cylindrical hole running through this guy's skull, which is still intact except for the part that the pole struck through, of course."

"That sounds wicked. Don't tell me you're replacing 'The Spine,' though. It's my favorite."

"Oh, don't worry. I knew you liked that one a lot. I'm thinking about getting rid of 'The Balloon Bullet.'"

One of Abby's computers broke through their chatter with a mechanical beep.

"Ooh. What are you running?"

"Fingerprint."

"Gotta match?"

"Nope. It's been searching for the past twenty minutes. I guess I'm going to have to widen the search area by a couple of states."

"Well, I'll let you get back to work. Gotta make a coffee run, anyways. I heard Tim knocked over Dad's today. You want anything?" she asked, zipping up her jacket.

"I'm good for another hour." Abby held up her Caf-Pow! and jiggled it back and forth, making the liquid caffeine slosh around inside.

Kelly let out a small laugh. "What number is that?"

"12," Abby stated matter-of-factly.

"God, Abbs. I don't know how you down those things all day." She turned and walked towards the door.

"Hey. Did you want to stay at my place tonight?"

Kelly spun and hung onto the doorway. "That sounds awesome. I'll have to check with Dad to see if he had anything planned."

"Oh my gosh, I completely forgot. He probably wants you close by for the week."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. With the case looking like it is, he might be parking at his desk tonight. Plus, I want to hear more about what I missed this past month and no one can fill me in better than you."

"That's right!"

"Later, Abbs."

"Bye Little Gibbs!"

* * *

Kelly leaned herself against the hurling winter wind, clinging tight to a cardboard cup holder with two large drinks displaying the logo of her dad's favorite coffee joint. One was a stong, black coffee for him, of course; the other was Kelly's favorite tea. She had never acquired the taste for coffee, even when her mug contained more cream and sugar than bean. When high school exams had rolled around, she attempted to take a leaf out of Abby's book and down a Caf-Pow!, which resulted in extreme jitters and left her without a prayer when it came to concentrating on anything for more than two minutes. She finally came across caffeinated tea when Maddie introduced it to her at a local cafe. It woke her up in the morning and kept her focused throughout the day. Plus, she loved the smell.

Upon entering the front doors to NCIS, she beelined for the metal detectors, hoping that her dad's coffee would still be hot by the time she reached the squad room.

"Miss Kelly Gibbs! If you don't come over here right now and give me some sugar, I'm gonna start a fit that nobody gonna be able to control."

Kelly froze and looked over her shoulder. The security guard, a rather large woman with an even larger perm, opened her arms, and motioned for Kelly to accept her hug. Kelly placed the drinks on the desk and fell into another great embrace. "Hey Alma."

"Honey, look at you! You've grown up so much. Now why haven't I been seein' your beautiful face 'round here no more?"

"Alma," she dragged out, "I've been at training camp for four weeks. You knew that."

"Guess so. But that don't mean I have to like it."

"Trust me, I missed you more than you can imagine." She picked up the drinks.

"Alrigh' sugar. Well, I'm just glad to see you again." She glanced at the cups in Kelly's hand. "Oh, I'm keepin' you, aren't I? Go make yourself scarce."

"Thanks Alma."

"You bet, Honey."

Kelly picked up where she left off at the metal detectors and rode her way up to the fourth floor. When she stepped through the doors the team members still weren't in their usual spots. She sat down at her dad's desk and put down his coffee before fishing through her duffel bag. Kelly extracted a sketchpad and flipped through it to a clean page.

Since before she could remember, Kelly had always loved to draw. She knew it came from her mother because her dad didn't have a single artistic gene in him. Kelly's mom had always occupied her with crayons and colored pencils whenever she got bored. She would draw for hours on end, filling pages and pages of blank paper with bright squiggles and doodles, always coming up with something new to post on the fridge. When her mom drew with her, Kelly couldn't help but stare in awe at the precision and detail that had flowed onto the page. It always made her tremendously jealous when she saw the finished products because they looked like photographs rather than drawings. She would become impatient and give up on whatever she had been trying to replicate, but her mother never stopped encouraging her, explaining that one day, Kelly would be better than she was. When she heard that her mother had died in the accident, Kelly was furious. How was she supposed to learn to draw better if her teacher was gone? When she got home from the hospital, all she would do was sit in her mother's studio and stare at all of the art supplies and sketches and paintings, wishing for that day when she could be as proud of her work as she was of her mother's. Her dad always said he loved her pictures, even when they were horrendous, but it made her angry. Abby pointed it out to her one day that regardless of how good they looked, he would always love them because they reminded him of Shannon. It was then, in a new light, that she understood why she would never give up her love for art.

Today, she was adding to a project she had been working on since she was six. One day, when she and her mom went to NCIS to surprise her dad with lunch, her mom challenged her to sketch the framed photo on her dad's desk. It was of the three of them together, sitting on the beach that past summer. After complaining about the difficulty of the task laid before her, Kelly's mom picked up a pencil and began sketching the basics of their figures in the photograph. After a while, her mother stopped drawing. She encouraged Kelly to finish the picture, which she later realized was her greatest work at the age of 8. Ever since then, when Kelly had to wait for her father and Abby and Ducky were to busy to be disturbed, she would sketch the photo with whatever drawing tools she could find, always marking the date, just as her mom used to. Beneath her bed was a shoe box stuffed with sketches of that photograph on everything from computer paper to NCIS pamphlets to take-out receipts. She didn't know when, but one day she was going to give her father that box.

The lines and shadows seemed to come too easily tonight. It took her only minutes to draw everyone's basic figure and features. Soon, she was in a world of her own. Kelly leaned in closer to her sketch pad and added minute details to her mother's face, shading in just the right parts to accent the beautiful shapes. Her hand was moving fast now: contour lines became the ocean and sand, a few smudges turned into shadows, cross-hatches formed the textures on their clothes.

"You know, I hear the Lourve is getting really tired of the Mona Lisa and they need some new artwork. You should think about submitting something."

Her heart jumped with surprise. She knew that voice in a crowd of millions.

"Tony!"

Kelly leapt from her chair, clasping her arms around his neck. Tony returned the hug enthusiastically and lifted her off her feet.

"I missed you so much!" she said when he returned her to the ground. However, the moment was short-lived when she threw a punch into his left bicep. He couldn't have dodged it if he tried.

"Ow!" he cried, rubbing the spot. "That's one heck of a hello. Remind me what that's for?"

"For convincing me that the first week of training camp was all placement exams."

"It's not?" he asked, feigning surprise. "I could've sworn –"

"Oh, shut it DiNozzo. No excuse will save your sorry ass." She could barely hold back her grin.

"Hey. Even if it had been," he pointed out, "you probably would have passed with flying colors." He looked her in the eyes, smiled, and she embraced him once again. "It's good to have you back, Sketch," he whispered into her ear. Sketch was the nickname Tony had given her when she first presented him with a drawing of them together. It still hung on the bulletin board next to his desk 11 years later.

"Tony, stop pigging her. We would like to say hello, too."

Kelly released Tony and turned to see Ziva with her arms crossed and a grin on her face.

"It's hogging, Ziva. But don't worry, I didn't forget about you at all." She gave her a kiss on each cheek and a tight squeeze.

"Nor did I forget about you, McGee." He, too, smiled and enveloped Kelly in a hug.

"Good to see you Kelly. How was camp?" he asked.

"It was challenging, but I learned loads."

"Beat up anyone too bad?"

Kelly released a light-hearted laugh."Not too bad. Although, Ziva, your spin on the roundhouse saved me more than once."

"It is one of my favorites."

"Speaking of beating people up," Kelly said, "I assume that since all of you are here, my dad is done with interrogation. Any idea –" She cut off in mid-sentence and closed her eyes. Slowly, a smile crept onto her face and she spun on the spot. Gibbs had been standing directly behind her, his mouth half open, about to answer her question. "– where my dad is?" she finished.

"Hey Kell."

"Hi Dad."

Gibbs pulled her into a tight hug and kissed the top of her hair. Kelly leaned back to look him in the eye. Gibbs examined her face and frowned when he saw an elongated green-turning-yellow bruise on her jaw. He brushed his thumb across it and raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing gets by you, does it?"

"How many times did you hit the mat?"

"Unintentionally? Just twice. Once it was four against one – I was the one, and the other time I was taking on practically two hundred pounds of sheer muscle. I thought about gouging his eyes out, but that probably would have resulted in cleaning some grotesque surface with my toothbrush."

Gibbs succeeded in holding back his smile.

"Really, Dad. I'm fine."

"Good," he said, wrapping his arms around her once again."It's good to have you home, Kell."

"Feels awesome to be here."

Gibbs moved to his computer and dropped a file folder into one of his desk drawers. She leaned her hands on his desk and waited, her eyes following it until it disappeared. Gibbs could practically hear her gaze begging to take a peek at the case file. "Nope."

"How about a bribe?" She held out the coffee. He stared at it. "I heard you were down a cup this morning and Ducky told me that this guy is slipping. Looks like you'll be here for a while..."

Gibbs contemplated the situation but was distracted by the sweet aroma Kelly was blowing in his direction. "Fine. You can take a look."

She handed over the coffee. "Yes!"

"When it's closed."

"Dad..."

"You don't even like coffee."

"Point, but I'm sure any of your team members could have used that."

They locked eyes; their staredown was accompanied only by silence.

"Maybe tomorrow. It's late. Go home, get some sleep." Kelly knew her luck was out for the night.

Just then, Gibbs's phone rang and Abby's voice confirmed that the fingerprint belonged to Pinner. Remembering Abby's request earlier, Kelly spoke up. "Actually, Abby was hoping that you'd let me stay at her place tonight. We've got some catching up to do."

"Fine with me."

"Thanks Dad. I love you," she said, giving him a peck on the cheek and walking towards the elevator.

"Love you too, Kelly."


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the NCIS characters

The next morning, NCIS, 06:30.

When Gibbs was stuck fast in a case he gave himself twenty minutes to review everything they had: from the moment they got the call down to the latest bit of intel. Sometimes he could pick out the sliver of information his team had unfortunately passed over. When this occurred, it never ended well, but at least it gave them a new lead.

This time Gibbs had no such luck. All the information he had collected from Pinner just circled back to what they had uncovered after their first few leads. Gibbs wanted something new to chase, to claw at, to chew on. Even if it was unlikely, chasing something still beat sitting in the office waiting.

Rubbing the leftover sleep out of his eyes, Gibbs thought about Kelly. His mind couldn't grasp how she was already back from training camp. To him, she had left just yesterday, bidding him a worried, but excited goodbye. Several months into her semester, she had suggested completing camp early instead of waiting until the end of junior year. In his head, Gibbs knew it was a smart move; she could advance to field work faster than many of the other students who waited to complete training camp until they absolutely had to. However, therein lied the rub – in a year and a half, she would be an intern, possibly at NCIS.

All things considered, Gibbs wasn't as worried about her performance as she was. He'd taught her how to track, how to throw and take a punch, how to use what was available in a moment's notice. He'd taught her the parts of a gun, how to take them apart, clean them, put them back together again. He'd taught her how to find her perfect stance and how to shoot. He'd taught her to trust her gut when her head held too many thoughts. Regardless of how she saw herself, Gibbs knew she would do well in those four weeks of hell-on-earth.

Since his twenty minutes of reevaluating resulted in nothing positive, Gibbs decided it was time for another coffee. After slipping his way through the grouchy businessmen and -women waiting in line for their drinks, he exited his favorite caffeine supplier balancing a tray with his regular black and a tea for Kelly. He stopped into Abby's favorite 24-hour convenience store and filled another spot in the tray with a large Caf-Pow!. Even though the case was going nowhere, an energetic Abby was better than a non-energetic Abby.

Returning to NCIS, he dropped the Caf-Pow off in Abby's fridge and headed to the squad room. The team had probably sensed his frustration yesterday because they were all sitting at their desks when he entered the bullpen. He heard a chorus of "Good Morning's" as he sat down and flipped open the case file for what felt like the millionth time. Richardson's face stared up at him. _Where the hell are you, dirtbag?_

"No way!" Laughter spilled into the squad room. It was the laugh Gibbs heard when Kelly recounted a particularly amusing story – just like Shannon's.

Abby and Kelly walked into the bullpen together, both of their noses pink from the cold.

"That's completely hysterical. I would never think to use that mixture, though," Abby said, an amazed look on her face. Kelly was still battling a fit of laughter.

"What's so funny?" Tony asked, completely distracted from his work.

"Little Gibbs is a genius," Abby responded, beaming.

"Well, we already knew that, but why are we laughing at her intelligence?"

"Because she pulled the funniest prank ever."

"Oh? Let's hear it," he demanded, his lips curling into a grin.

Kelly caught her breath. "It was the second week of camp and this jerk was angry with me so he decided to rat me out for just about everything. At one point, he got this other kid, Jeremy, in trouble, too. We were a little fed up cleaning the kitchen floor so we decided to return the favor. It just so happened that Jeremy knew how to whip up a very nice heat-activated superglue out of orange juice, vinegar, baking soda, and water."

She paused.

"And..." Tony pushed.

"Let's just say that when this guy finally unstuck linings of his boots from his feet, they smelled very..." she searched for the right word, "...citrusy." The whole team burst out laughing. Even Gibbs failed at hiding his grin.

He walked over to where they were circling Tony's desk and handed Kelly her tea. She put her nose to the drinking hole punched in the lid and inhaled deeply. Tea was to Kelly as coffee was to Gibbs: it kept her going.

"Why was he angry with you?" Gibbs questioned, his stern persona having returned. He wondered if he needed to do a background check – just in case.

"I floored him," she said nonchalantly. "I guess he wasn't very fond of the shiner on his temple either," Kelly after taking a long sip from her drink.

"Did you get caught?" McGee asked.

"Yeah, but it was totally worth it. They just made us run. No biggie."

"Lucky for you."

Kelly chuckled to herself. She had been an three-time All-State Athlete for track during high school. Running didn't phase her in the least.

"Well, I'm gonna be in my lab," Abby announced, turning on the spot.

"Later, Abbs," Tony said.

"Have you gotten anything new with the case?" Kelly asked, mostly to her father.

"Not since last night."

The team had returned to their desks and began dialing numbers and typing. Kelly looked behind her dad to see his desk, slightly disheveled and loaded with file folders. The wastebasket next to it was filled to the brim with empty coffee cups.

"I take it you spent the night," she said, noticing the dark spots underneath his eyes.

"Wouldn't have made a difference if I hadn't."

"It wouldn't hurt to get some sleep once in a while either."

Whatever Gibbs had been about to retort was cut short.

"Gibbs! I just got off the phone with an airline in Madrid. Richardson boarded a plane to D.C. last night."

_This is it._ "Touch-down time?"

"Two hours from now."

"Grab your gear. We're cuffing this dirtbag."

Ziva, Tony, and McGee holstered their guns, clipped on their badges, and headed for the elevator. Gibbs was already halfway there.

"Dad, can I go to the airport? I won't get in the way."

"No." It was incontrovertible.

"Dad, I'll just watch, observe." She was keeping up with him as he sped towards the elevator doors.

"Kelly. No." He stepped in and pushed the first floor button. She stood, staring at him from the other side of the doors. He locked her gaze until the doors slid shut. She was left standing in the squad room, staring at her morphed and muted reflection in the polished chrome.

* * *

Kelly decided it was time to do what she always did when her dad was out on a lead – go visit Ducky. Usually, she would stop by at Abby's lab for a while beforehand, but she'd spent the entire night chatting with her favorite goth about camp, the team, NCIS, school, and life. Her dad probably would have head-smacked her if he'd found out she'd kept his forensic scientist up until 4 A.M.

Kelly found that autopsy had a life of it's own, however ironic that was. Although her mother had disliked her spending time down there when she was little, the dead bodies had never bothered her. Maybe it was the way Ducky cared for each one, talking to them and treating them with utmost respect, even when they no longer had feelings. He'd show her all the parts, highlighting the wounds, and explaining the most probable causes for the more mysterious deaths. By the end of an autopsy, Kelly always felt she could outsmart her biology teacher.

She stepped out of the elevator and into autopsy, gliding past the automatic doors. Ducky was at the second examining table with Jimmy Palmer on the other side, jarring evidence the ME pulled from the deceased.

"Jethro, I have nothing for you," Ducky said, his head and torso still bent over the corpse.

"Wrong Gibbs, Ducky," Kelly replied with a smile.

Both the doctor and his assistant looked up from their work. "Oh! Kelly. You've come to join us?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "Hey Jimmy."

"How's it going, Kell?"

"Pretty good. And yourself?"

"I'm doing well. How was –"

"Mr. Palmer," Ducky said sternly, holding out a piece of shrapnel in his tweezers.

"Oh! Sorry, Doctor," he stammered as he thrust out an evidence jar.

Kelly pulled up a stool to the end of the autopsy table and sat, watching Ducky pull free pieces of shrapnel lodged in the victim's cheek. Even though he was dead, she couldn't help but feel the recurring weighted sadness for the soldier.

"So, my dear, what brings you to autopsy?" Ducky asked.

"Do I need a reason to come down to autopsy, Ducky? I like spending time with you guys," she stated earnestly.

"While I am truly flattered, I'm also sure there are more intriguing things for a young woman like you. One might have thought you've outgrown watching me examine victims."

"Do you ever get tired of performing autopsies?" she asked, pointedly.

"I see."

"The team is out on a lead. I guess the dirtbag's arriving at Dulles airport in a couple of hours."

"Finally. This one has been driving everyone to their wit's end. It will be a sweet sigh of relief when they get him into cuffs."

Kelly averted her eyes to her lap. She massaged a callous on her palm. "I wish Dad would have let me observe, though."

"Mr. Palmer, would you go get my bag from the truck, please. I think I left a few of the other specimen jars in the front pocket."

"Sure, Doctor," Jimmy said before stripping off his gloves.

Ducky waited until he heard the sliding doors close. "Kelly, would you mind taking Mr. Palmer's place for a moment. I'd rather not get any fluids on the evidence jars. Your handwriting was always better than mine, too."

Kelly grabbed onto the autopsy table and rolled her stool to the spot Jimmy had vacated. She picked up a small glass jar with a cotton swab at the bottom and held it out. After Ducky dropped several pieces of exploded shell onto the cotton, she twisted on the cap, sealed it with an evidence sticker, and labeled it for Abby. The two of them grew into a method routine and soon the only sounds echoing off the walls were plinks from the glass jars.

Ducky paused to watch Kelly carefully write specifications on a label. "You know, Kelly, I'm sure you're father believes you are fully capable of handling yourself in those sorts of situations."

"Yeah, I know, Duck," more to the dead body than to the doctor.

It was uncanny how much she sounded like Jethro.

"Don't you think he would want to try to help me get as far as I can before my internship so that I'm not a complete greenhorn when we do go out in the field for the first time?" she asked heatedly.

"My dear, he makes it his job to assure that you don't experience any of it before you absolutely have to."

"He won't let me observe, though. You go in, get the guy, and come out. I just want to see how it's done in real life. "

"Kelly, you know it doesn't always happen like that."

She thought of all the times her dad came home late because Ducky had to mend him after some commotion that erupted when he tried to bring a criminal in. Yes, she knew that it was never as easy as go in, get the guy, come out. Tony's stories about chases and shots and explosions ran through her head all at once.

Ducky laid his tweezers on a utensil tray. "Suppose the man they are trying to capture today has a firearm up his sleeve or a block of C4 strapped to his chest. Suppose you got hurt, merely observing."

Kelly pictured herself watching from the end of a terminal as a scraggly-looking man unzipped his coat to reveal a wired bomb on his chest. He pressed his thumb to a dead-man switch. Hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Coming back to autopsy, she looked down at her hands. Kelly hated it when she caught herself thinking about her future career before her family.

"Kelly, you might be able to handle a punch or a bullet wound, but to your father it would be unbearable. You are the last person who needs to be reminded of his over-protective side."

"I know, Ducky, and sometimes I even appreciate it like I should. I... It's just..."

Ducky waited patiently while Kelly twisted a ring on her finger.

"What if he never lets go? I don't want to have to convince him I'm fine every time we talk on the phone. I don't want him to worry for the rest of his life."

"My dear," Ducky said, sounding very tired, "he will never stop caring about your well-being. It is his second nature as your father. It runs in his blood to protect you."

Kelly remained silent. Ducky realized this was the first time Kelly honestly objected one of her father's decisions when she knew it was the right choice.

"You are everything to him, Kelly. When he lost your mother it destroyed him. You were there to put him back together."

"Ducky, I was in a coma for the week after the accident, as you very well remember. He had everyone here to help him."

"Trust me, nothing any of us said would have phased him. He healed because he could heal with you. You were the only other person in the world that had even the slightest connection with him, conscious or not. You held him together. I wouldn't doubt that you still do."

Kelly remembered the weeks after her return from the hospital. It was like starting life over again. Kelly would move through the house without purpose, barely touching anything for the fear that it would shatter. She would cry every night, sometimes not even realizing it until her dad stumbled into her room to scoop her up and cradle her. "He held me together, too."

Ducky stripped off his gloves and tossed them away. Returning to the table, he took Kelly's hand in both of his own, which made her look him in the eye.

"You may not like his judgments, nor do you have to, but you miss the things he says when you're gone. How he admires your determination and stamina or how proud he is that you know so much more than other women your age. My dear, you are the reason that man's world turns."

Ducky could see this dawning on her face. She hastily swept her free hand across her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. He knew that she wouldn't be able to do this in front of her father, not because she considered it a sign of weakness, but because she believed tears were useless. Ducky was one of the only people who had seen her cry past the age of 12.

Kelly squeezed his hands. "I know, Ducky. Or at least I know a little more than I did ten minutes ago." A brand new smile spread across her face.

She hopped off the chair and lightly swung her arms around the doctor's neck, trying to convey all of her gratitude through the hug. When she stepped back, Kelly looked around the room, puzzled.

"What is it?"

"I figured Jimmy would be back by now, snooping like he usually does."

Ducky chortled. "Oh, he won't be back for a while," he said, pointing to his desk chair. Upon it sat his black, leather medical bag. Kelly grinned and turned back to her favorite ME.

"Thanks for the talk, Ducky," she whispered into his ear before placing a kiss on his cheek.

He simply stood there, his hands grasped before him. "Anytime, Kelly."

And with that, she took a deep, freeing breath and walked through autopsy's sliding doors.

* * *

Soon enough, Kelly found herself back in the squad room at her father's desk, working on the picture she had started yesterday. It had been a while since she sketched one of these, but this one was turning out to be one of the best she'd ever drawn. She thought that it might be worth it to add some color, that was if she ever found some free time between classes, homework, track, and her workouts.

The elevator door pinged open and McGee's voice reached her ears. Stuffing her sketchbook in her bag, she stood at her dad's desk and watched his team saunter into the bullpen. _One day, that will be me_.

"Face it, Tony, you wouldn't have been able to get a hand on him if Ziva hadn't shot the gumball machine. It tripped him up for about 20 feet. Therefore, Ziva gets the credit," McGee said.

Ziva lifted her chin at Tony and said, very emphatically, "Thank you, McGee."

"That was a lucky guess," Tony argued. "He could have veered off to the other side and Gibbs would have caught him in the front anyways. He just decided to act stupid." He dumped his gear at his desk and plopped down into the chair.

"DiNozzo, these guys don't act stupid. They just are," Gibbs pointed out. He walked over to Kelly and kissed her forehead before returning his gun and badge to their spots in his bottom drawer.

"And besides, it was not a guess. I knew what he was going to do. He was easier to read than you, Tony," Ziva added.

"I am not that easy to read," Tony objected. "I have a very mysterious presence about me."

"Yeah, when you don't want to get caught eating the last of the ice cream," Kelly said, folding her arms across her chest.

"I can't argue with that, but –"

"DiNozzo, give it a rest," the four said in unison, so he bit the inside of his cheek and began filling out his report.

Kelly waited patiently while two special agents and one Mossad officer completed their reports, handing them in to Gibbs one at a time.

Just as Ziva handed hers over, Kelly asked "Wanna spar? I've been itching to get loose."

Ziva looked to Gibbs who gave her a curt nod. "Better come back in one piece."

"Do not worry. I am sure she learned a few new tricks at camp that will give me a run for my cash." Tony groaned.

"It's money, Ziva. A run for your money," Kelly corrected. "And unless I develop my own spidey sense, I doubt I'll ever be able to whip a Mossad officer."

"You never know."

Kelly smiled. "Bye guys. We'll be at the gym."

"May the better woman win," Tony said.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs called sharply.

"Sorry, Boss," he said, head-slapping himself.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the NCIS characters.

Around 11:00 A.M.

Ziva and Kelly had been sparring for at least an hour – something Kelly figured by how much her muscles felt like oatmeal. It had been going well so far, but Ziva was up by only two points and Kelly desperately wanted to even it out. As long as she kept coming on strong, she might be able to set a new personal record for herself. Dancing around Ziva like a lioness, Kelly decided it was time to strike. She jabbed her foot towards Ziva's midsection, which the officer blocked, then used her momentum to advance forward, sending punches and blows near Ziva's shoulders and chest. Ziva blocked all of these except for the last one, which Kelly faked, then landed on her abs.

"Ha!" Kelly shouted. "One more and we're even."

Ziva just curled her lips and advanced forward. She was always amazed at how fast Kelly caught onto her teaching. It had taken only several weeks until she was ready to move on to the more advanced techniques that came from Ziva's Mossad background; moves that broke bones instead of bruising them, pressure points that made grown men crumble to the ground, methods that could flip the 200-pound being pinning you to the floor.

Ziva watched her student as they circled each other. "Alright. Next time, try adding something else in your series, just to break it up. It might feel awkward to switch it up in the middle, but practice it and make it a surprise. Try to distract me."

Blowing the loose hairs out of her face, Kelly bounced on the balls of her feet and assessed the best spot to begin her series. Before she could progress, however, a digital buzz sounded from one side of the boxing ring. They both turned to see Ziva's phone lighting up in time with an Israeli rap song. Kelly relaxed her stance and sighed. She would bet her life's savings that the person on the other line was related to her – paternally.

"David." She paused, listening to the caller. "I will be up shortly."

"What and where?" Kelly asked when Ziva snapped her phone shut.

"Dead marine. Fort Dupont Park," she answered, holding one of the ropes for Kelly to climb under.

"Hopefully this one doesn't take as long as the last case."

Ziva jumped down from the ring and accepted a towel Kelly held out to her. "Hopefully," she agreed.

The two women dumped their towels in a laundry bin and headed to the elevator. Once Kelly pressed the floor button, Ziva noticed her slouch against the railing that bordered the three walls. It was more than just her spidey sense that told Ziva something was off.

"You did very well today, Kelly. Actually, I think it was the best you have ever done. I am sorry our session was cut short," she said, watching Kelly's face for some glimpse of what was going on inside her head.

"Thanks," Kelly replied, though her smile did not reach her eyes. "I really do appreciate your help. I always knew there was some bonus for having a Mossad officer as one of my mentors."

Seeing the hint of sadness in her eyes, Ziva sighed. "We shouldn't be too long."

"Oh, I know. I just wish I could go with. That's all."

Ziva knew all too well what it felt like to be left behind. "One day. Perhaps you will even be our intern."

They reached the squad room floor. "That'll be the day," Kelly said sarcastically. "Dad hates interns. I don't think he'd enjoy having some probie follow you guys around, let alone having that probie be me. He'd make sure it wouldn't happen."

"Why? It would be fun. Then it would really be Team Gibbs."

"Are you kidding? He'd spend every moment making sure I didn't get the slightest bump or bruise. It would totally throw everything off track," she said in a low voice as they entered the bullpen.

Gibbs looked up from his desk. "You ready to go in five?"

"Yes," Ziva answered.

He turned to Kelly, sitting on the edge of his desk. Her cheeks were pink from the workout and shined with a layer of sweat, but the sparkle in her eyes from this morning had disappeared. Kelly didn't miss his once-over.

"You –"

"Dad," Kelly interrupted. "Rule 12."

_If something seems wrong, give it 24 hours. If after 24 she's still bothered, ask then. _

"We won't be more than an hour," he said to her sincerely.

"It's alright," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Duty calls."

"Don't coop yourself up in here too long."

"Actually I was going to go for a run. I'm still not as loose as I'd like to be."

"Are you insane?" Tony interjected, incredulously, already halfway to the elevator. "It's like the arctic circle out there."

"It's a lot milder than it was yesterday," she said simply.

"Going down Anacostia?" Gibbs asked.

"I was thinking of going up Maine to Independence. It's less crowded."

"You need a lift?"

She shook her head. "Nah. It'll be my warm-up. Shouldn't take me more than an hour and a half."

"Watch the ice," he warned.

"You, too."

She watched him gather his things and check the elevator, only to see his team waiting for their leader. After sliding into his coat and holstering his gun, he held up his right hand to her, signing "I love you." Kelly mimicked this gestured with her own hand and pressed her knuckles against his until they were intertwined. Gibbs kissed her hairline then turned on the spot, still grasping her fingers before the distance untangled them.

* * *

12:30 P.M.

Just as he'd promised, Gibbs and the team arrived back to the bullpen within the hour. After a quick slew of assignments, the agents set to work immediately, feeling the weight of a brand new case on their shoulders. McGee was already uploading pictures from a memory chip onto the plasma, Tony was making calls, and Ziva was filing several BOLOs. Gibbs's gut hinted to him that the dead marine they found in the park had more than a life in the corps. Lo and behold, pulling up his record revealed that Petty Officer Jameson was involved with several street gangs before joining the Navy. It didn't take them long to find several suspects to accelerate their investigation.

Tony jumped to his feet. "Boss, Jameson's parents were both killed in a car accident three years ago and his closest relatives live in Florida. He hung out with the guys from his class at Mickey's Pub on a weekly basis. Two of them also have criminal records for breaking and entering, robbery, and assault," he said, pulling up several mugshots on the closest plasma.

"Alright, take McGee. Get on these guys and find out if they had anything to do with Jameson."

Gibbs could feel Tony's eyes on him. "You got something else?"

"Boss," he said, hesitant, "shouldn't Kelly be back by now?"

"Can _you_ run ten miles in an hour, DiNozzo?"

Tony looked puzzled. "Ten? I thought she only did eight."

"She increased her regimen to ten when she started training for camp," Gibbs replied, not pausing from his work.

"Ah. That would make sense." With that, Tony went back to his desk and gathered his gear.

Once the two agents left, Ziva spoke up. "Kelly has improved much, Gibbs."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Before you called, she was about to even the score. That has yet to happen."

Gibbs paused and smiled to himself.

* * *

It barely took Tony and McGee an hour before they came back with more intel to report.

McGee flipped through his notepad. "We managed to find several of Jameson's gang hanging outside of Mickey's. Tyler Jones, apparently Jameson's right-hand guy, said that the last time he saw Jameson was yesterday night during their weekly get-together. Jones said he was acting jumpy, distracted, and that he was anxious to get out of there. Jameson ditched the group around midnight and left the bar. Jones followed him out the back and saw him get into a black Escalade. He couldn't identify the driver. None of the other guys have seen him since."

"Did he get a plate number?"

"No. No plate number."

Gibbs stared up at him, waiting.

"I'll get on that search, Boss."

* * *

Gibbs trashed his empty coffee cup in a garbage bin outside autopsy doors before making his way to the lightboxes where Ducky was analyzing several x-rays of Jameson's chest.

"Hey Duck. What's the deal with our Petty Officer?"

"My initial theory about asphyxiation was correct," Ducky said, pointing to the x-rays. "Three of the four stab wounds to his chest pierced his lungs, causing them to collapse almost immediately." He turned and led Gibbs to the table where Jameson lay, the y-shaped pattern of stitches displayed on his chest. Picking up one of the Petty Officer's hands, Ducky pointed out a series of scrapes, cuts, and bruises lining his knuckles. "I also found several fibers in these defensive wounds and underneath the fingernails, all of which are with Abby. You can see the bruises on his face. He most likely took a couple of swings before going down. This young man certainly put up the fight before he was killed."

"Too bad it wasn't enough."

"It never seems to be," he replied, sadly. "I also found a small puncture in his left tricep," he continued, rolling Jameson on his side and pointing out a small, circular bruise on the back of his arm.

"He was injected with something?"

"Unfortunately yes. He had no other punctures in his forearms. The bruising was most likely caused by the force of insertion. Toxicology and a brain tissue sample will be able to tell us if there was anything foreign in his system when he died."

"Alright. Thanks Duck," Gibbs called over his shoulder, advancing towards the doors.

"Young fellow," the ME began, leaning over the dead corpse, "there is no glory in battle worth the blood it costs."

* * *

Abby was typing away at her glowing keyboard when Gibbs stepped into her lab, Caf-Pow! in hand.

"What've you got for me, Abbs?" he asked, placing her liquid battery next to the computer mouse.

"A lot, actually. It's been making my head spin, Gibbs, and that's a pretty hard feat cause I can handle a lot when it comes to factors that result in head-spinning, or so I'm told by several friends that were more than willing to recount experiences."

"Too much information, Abbs."

"Alright, well, let's see how your head does." She pulled up several photos of the stab wounds in Jameson's chest. Several clicks later, she had zoomed in and highlighted the four gashes, causing the edges to stand out in florescent green. "See the edges around the wounds?"

"Yeah."

"They're all pretty smooth for that kind of incision. The knife you found at the crime scene had a slight serrated edge that would have caused more ripping than actual slicing. These three," she said, pointing to each of them in turn, "were a half an inch wide, and the last one is only slightly bigger, probably because the angle which the killer stabbed at was different."

"You mean the knife we found isn't the murder weapon?

"Correct. The blood on the blade was animal blood."

"Did you identify what kind of knife they used on Jameson?"

"No, but the size indicates something in the range of a Swiss army knife. I also ran some of the fuzz found under Jameson's fingernails through Major Mass Spec and he told me that it was polypropolene fibers."

"What were they used for?"

"In this case, berber. Commonly woven into cords, much like yarn, and sewn through a rubber grid to make floor mats for cars," she explained, bringing up an analysis graph on the plasma. "Specifically floor mats sold by Cadillac."

"Get anything back from toxicology, yet?"

"Not yet."

"My head isn't spinning, Abby."

"Hold thy horses, good sir. Or I should say camels?"

"Camels?"

"Yes. Berber wasn't the only thing Major Mass Spec found under Jameson's fingernails. He also found teeny-tiny camel hairs."

Gibbs stared at her, quizzically. "Jameson had defensive wounds all over his hands. They must have been from our killer."

"Oh. That's where my head started spinning. I mean, why would there be any camels around here. The circus left a couple months ago and I had really wanted to visit. One of my friends is in the Hall of Freaks, which I really don't understand why they call it that, I mean, a chain running through 38 parts of your body isn't necessarily –"

"Abbs."

"Oops. Sorry. Um, I did a little research through the textiles industry and found that there are a bunch companies that use camel hair to line coats, gloves, hats, et cetera. Based on color and texture, eleven of them sell around the east coast, two chains carry them in the state. Three products were sold in the past month."

"Can you get me the names of the buyers?"

"Two were paid with cash. One paid with plastic."

"And...?"

Abby held out a photo of a young man in dress whites. "One camel hair-lined coat belonging to Ryland Keller."

* * *

"Ryland Keller," Gibbs said, entering the squad room.

"That name sounds familiar," Ziva said, puzzled.

"He's one of Jameson's buddies," Tony explained quickly. "He was one of the kids that wasn't there when we interviewed the others."

"Got an address?"

"One minute..." McGee said, typing away at his computer. "1730 Douglas Street, Edgewood."

"DiNozzo, with me. We're bringing this kid in."

"On your six, Boss."

* * *

Gibbs and DiNozzo returned to NCIS with another criminal in tow. Before he knew what was happening, Ryland Keller was stuck in an interrogation room, staring back at himself in the two-way mirror. To Gibbs, the teenager sitting before him looked more nervous than a dog that just got a whiff of the veterinarian's office. One of his knees was bouncing faster than Abby could talk and his eyes shifted around the room every couple of seconds. This wouldn't take more than ten minutes.

"So," Gibbs started conversationally. "Why'd you kill Petty Officer Jameson?"

"W-what? I didn't kill anyone."

Gibbs place a picture of Jameson's corpse on Ducky's autopsy table in front of the Keller. "Well, Ryland, that's not what the evidence tells us."

"It's w-wrong, then," the kid disagreed, averting his eyes to anywhere except the picture. He lifted his right hand to rub the back of his neck. A thick Ace bandage was wrapped around his knuckles.

Gibbs grinned and shook his head. "Evidence doesn't lie, Ryland."

The boy just stared at his lap.

* * *

"That has to be some sort of record."

"3 minutes and 18 seconds," McGee confirmed.

Tony whistled. "Almost too easy."

At that moment, Abby walked into the bullpen. "Guys, that was, like, lightning fast. I didn't even have time to get the toxicology report back. That's faster than the machine. You guys beat the machine!" Gibbs rounded the corner and sat at his desk. Abby was just about to congratulate him when her face fell. "Everything okay, Gibbs?"

His face was set in a frown. "Kelly's not back."

"Isn't she still running?" Tony asked.

"She said she'd be back by 1:00."

Tony checked his watch. It was 3:17.

"Doesn't she usually go to that one cafe on her way back?"

"It doesn't take her two hours, McGee."

"She wouldn't dawdle. Kelly told me when she left that she had some stuff to do today," Abby pointed out.

"When did she leave?" Gibbs asked.

"Right after you guys got the call about Jameson."

"She didn't pick up her phone, it went straight to voicemail."

McGee rolled his chair to his computer and started typing away. "Boss, I can't track her number. Her cell phone must be off."

"The battery wouldn't be dead. She charged it at my place last night," Abby explained.

Gibbs stared at McGee's computer as if he wanted to chuck it out the office window. "She doesn't turn her phone off."

"Why not?"

"Rule 3."

"Never be unreachable," Ziva quoted. She turned to Tony and lowered her voice. "So the rules apply to Kelly, too?"

He was staring absent-mindedly at the floor. "They should," he said with a nod. Pulling out of his gaze, he looked at Ziva. "She influenced half of them."

* * *

Joggers and runners bobbed along down Virgina Avenue, pacing themselves and battling the brisk winter air. Some were pushing strollers or ran with partners, side by side. Cars passed them on the street, slipping and screeching on the wet pavement. Every driver internally thanked the yellow snowplow when it drove down the road, shoving the melting, grayish slush out of the way and sprinkling salt behind. However, no one took notice when a single runner's shoe was projected through the sweeper and landed, mangled and soaking, on a fresh pile of snow.

***

Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed the story so far. It means so much to me. More to come within the next several days.


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the NCIS characters.

NCIS 3:30 P.M.

Every member on Team Gibbs held their breath, waiting for their leader to begin dishing out orders. Their leader, however, was deep in thought, attempting to come up with any possible explanation for why Kelly wasn't back at NCIS. He kept turning his phone by its edges on the desk. She wouldn't go anywhere after a run except for the cafe to grab a drink. She wouldn't have dropped her phone because she kept in snug in the armband she'd asked for for her birthday. She wouldn't go anywhere else while she was sweating in her track gear. His gut didn't like the way this was going.

Director Jenny Shepard leaned on the banister of the stairs, watching over the silent group. "What is it that has you all stumped?"

No one said a word, still waiting for an answer from Gibbs. When he finally spoke, his answer was premeditated and collected.

"You three," he said, looking at McGee, Tony, and Ziva, "go to the Java Hut. It's at Virginia Avenue and 7th. Find Joe, ask him if she stopped by." They each grabbed their badge and gun and hurried out of the squad room.

Turning to Abby, he noticed that her expression mimicked his internal feelings – worried and confused. He stood up and lightly grasped her upper arms, looking her in the eyes.

"Can you go tell Ducky?" Gibbs requested solemnly. "He'd want to know."

She nodded vigorously and headed for the elevator. Gibb watched her disappear behind the sliding doors, then turned and climbed the stair to his meet his boss. Jenny didn't have to ask again; it was written all over her face.

"Any cases that come in within the next couple hours are going to have to be redirected to another team."

"And why is that?"

"No one's been able to get a hold of Kelly."

"That's not uncommon for a young woman, Gibbs." She paused, sensing his annoyance. "But what is your gut telling you?"

"That she's not simply being rebellious. I can't reach her," he paused. "And she can't reach me. That doesn't happen unless something interferes."

"Jethro, I'm sure there is a legitimate explanation for why she hasn't contacted you."

Gibbs straightened up and pulled out his stare.

"Don't worry," she said calmly. "I'm not disregarding your internal senses. Kelly would know what to do if something happened."

Gibbs couldn't disagree. Kelly would be able to handle herself, but he wouldn't let it come to that.

"I'm making sure that nothing happens."

* * *

Tony lead the way into the Java Hut, a small, cozy cafe decked out in rich brown and green themes. McGee and Ziva followed in behind the senior field agent and looked around, catching profiles of all the caffeine junkies filling up several booths and tables. Tony walked up to the cashier and got the attention of a teenage girl who was wearing an apron and a hand-drawn nametag that displayed "Sophia."

"Welcome to Java Hut. What can I get for you today?" she asked pleasantly.

"More like who. I'd like to speak to the owner, Joe," Tony answered curtly.

She looked puzzled. "Just a sec. I'll go get him." She disappeared behind several espresso machines.

"There is no one here over the age of 30 and most of them are too distracted by their hair," Ziva whispered, coming to his side.

McGee left a group of teenagers he was interviewing and joined them. "No one has seen Kelly. It's not like she'd stick out here."

A man in his late 30's came out from behind several racks of coffee. His lime green polo prominently displayed a burlesque form and olive skin. He lifted a door in the counter and walked over to the three agents.

"Can I help you?" he questioned.

Tony flashed his badge. "We're with NCIS. I'm special agent DiNozzo, this is officer David and special agent McGee. We were wondering if you saw Kelly Gibbs today."

"Yeah, yeah," he said with friendly recognition. "She came in after her run like she usually does."

"What time?"

"Um... It was around 12:45."

"Did she do anything different from her normal routine?"

Joe reflected for a moment, staring at the ground and rubbing a hand over his mouth.

"She came in, ordered a green tea and an oatmeal bar – that's her usual. I heard her ordering and we chatted it up 'cause I haven't seen her in a while. She grabbed a magazine and had her stuff, then she left. Is something wrong?"

Tony looked at his team members skeptically.

"We think something might have happened to her after she left."

"Oh my God," Joe said quietly. "She seemed perfectly alright today. Such a sweet kid. Her boyfriend was nice, too. A little old for her, I think, but nice."

Tony froze in the middle of writing information on his notepad. "Her boyfriend?"

"I assumed it was her boyfriend. He met her outside when she left. Took her hand."

"Did you get a good look at him?" McGee asked.

Joe nodded. "He ordered an espresso before she came in."

"Do you think you could describe him to a profiler?"

"Yeah, sure. Give me one minute. I'll be right back." He lifted the counter door and began talking to Sophia. He stripped off his apron, hung it on a peg, and returned to the agents. They walked to the front door.

"I take it that guy isn't her boyfriend," Joe said, catching up with their quick stride.

"No," Tony said, a tad harsh. "He's not."

* * *

4:30 P.M.

The team had gathered back in the bullpen, uncertain of what to do next. When they had broken the news to Gibbs about Joe's recollection, McGee had thought his boss was going to either vomit or shoot someone. After they'd finished their report, he left without a word.

McGee felt helpless. He couldn't put out BOLOs on anything, there were no security videos to watch, no pictures to analyze, no coordinates to pinpoint. It was driving him crazy thinking that Kelly was out there somewhere, possibly close, and yet they couldn't reach her. He remembered when Sarah was framed. He remembered the vulnerability in her eyes and the constant wondering if life would ever return to normal. Surviving that ordeal had wiped him out completely, and Sarah had only been set up, not kidnapped. He hated to admit that that was the case even though there was nothing else to explain Kelly's absence. McGee could not fathom the slightest of what Gibbs must be feeling now, his daughter a victim of the crime they fought every day.

Once more, McGee punched in Kelly's cell phone number on his computer, only to witness another fruitless attempt. He'd been trying to track her number for the past half hour, but every time an error message popped up saying the signal couldn't be found. He silently hoped that wherever Kelly was, she was okay.

Stomping interrupted his thoughts. Abby half ran into the bullpen, a file folder clutched tight in her hand. Joe was right behind her.

"Where's Gibbs?"

"I don't know. He left a while ago."

She looked like she was going to scream. "McGee! C'mon. You have no idea where he is?"

"Abby, I told you, he left. I have no idea where he went."

"I didn't leave, McGee," Gibbs pointed out, coming down the stairs that lead to MTAC. "What is it, Abbs?"

"This is what Joe was able to come up with," she said, rushing to him, her arm outstretched. McGee, Tony, and Ziva followed.

Gibbs jumped the last four steps. Taking the folder from her, he opened it, and looked at the photo.

It took two seconds of complete silence until his face crumpled. He slammed the railing of the stairs with his fist and swore out loud.

Abby jumped back a little, frightened by the sudden outburst, and covered her mouth with her hands. The rest of the team just stared.

"Dammit!"

With uncanny timing, the cell phone at Gibbs's hip vibrated. He yanked it out forcefully and put it to his ear.

"WHAT?!"

"_Did you miss me?_"


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the NCIS characters.

"WHAT?!"

"_Did you miss me?_"

Gibbs froze. That voice was like a distant nightmare. Hatred boiled in his stomach. "Not in the slightest, you bastard." He snapped hard at McGee and pointed to his phone. McGee scrambled to his computer and began typing rapidly.

"_Tsk, tsk, tsk, Jethro. Name-calling will not get you to Kelly any sooner. You've got to play nice._"

"I'm not playing anything, you son of a bitch. Where the hell is my daughter?"

"_Why, isn't that your job Agent Gibbs? You figure these things out on a regular basis. You remember our little game, don't you?_" the voice teased.

Not trusting his temper, Gibbs remained silent.

"_Of course you do. Jethro doesn't forget. The same rules still apply_."

"If you breath within a thousand feet of my daughter, I will destroy you inch by inch."

"_Only if you can get your hands on me._"

"I don't need to touch you to send a bullet through your skull."

"_I escaped you once, Jethro. I can do it again. I know your style – the same since day one._"

"Wouldn't mind showing you a few new tricks with my rifle."

"_I'm sure you wouldn't,_" it said smugly.

"What do you want?"

"_I want my life back,_" he demanded.

"Not sure I can do that."

"_Then I'm not sure if I can resist your daughter. You have 24 hours._" The line went dead.

"McGee..."

"Boss, whoever this guy is, he called from a payphone right outside the Java Hut."

"DiNozzo, Ziva, let's go. McGee, Abby, find everything on Jasper Cole. Everything!"

"On it, Boss."

* * *

Abby had temporarily taken over Tony's computer to do her research. Missing persons cases had always made her feel lonely, but this was different. This was Kelly Gibbs. Little Gibbs! Abby knew she was like everyone's younger sister, or at least it felt that way to Abby. They were family – tighter than blood. Whenever she thought of the situation, horrible images flashed through her mind. Working at NCIS had introduced her to a whole new level of wild and psychopathic human tendencies, all of which were worse than the last. Every time Abby went to type figures into the computer, her hands shook like leaves in the wind.

"Abby, are you okay?" McGee asked, watching her carefully.

"Seriously, McGee?" she said sarcastically. "No, I'm not okay. Little Gibbs is out there and she could be in serious danger. I'm not okay at all and neither should you be."

"My bad. Stupid question."

"It wasn't a stupid question, McGee. Just really horrid timing."

"Did you want to switch places?"

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather just hand over the information than read everything this creeper has done." She remembered Gibb's reaction to the profile. "No wonder Gibbs is so upset."

So far, they'd uncovered Cole's license, address, family history, credit card trail, medical records, and criminal file. The last was, by far, the most interesting. It revealed that Jasper Cole had been a serial rapist and murderer about ten years ago. Realization dawned on the two of them when they read that Gibbs had been the one to finally catch him and put him away. Unfortunately, he escaped from prison a week before the date of his death sentence. No one had seen hide nor hair of him since that last day in his cell.

Abby had taken one glimpse at the case file and caught herself from screaming at the last moment. Cole's torture methods were anything but mild. Her heart pounded so heavily in her chest that it almost hurt. Tears blurred her vision every now and then before she wiped them away, rubbing off her dark mascara as well. Opening another document, she scanned it quickly and sent it to McGee's computer, where a short chime assured her he'd gotten it.

"McGee?" Abby asked in a small voice. He looked up from the page he was reading.

"Yeah Abbs?"

"Do you think she's okay?"

The silence built between them. When he answered, his voice was just as quiet as hers had been.

"I hope so."

* * *

Gibbs got them to the cafe in less than five minutes. All four tires squealed as they hugged the curb leading into the narrow strip mall parking lot. He didn't bother to turn off the car before swinging open his door and standing up to get a better view of the shops. He quickly located the payphone McGee had traced. No one was anywhere near it. After a quick scan of the parking lot, Gibbs's gut told him the perv had left. Kelly wasn't here anymore.

"Go flash his picture. See if anyone recognizes him," he ordered, leading them into the coffee shop.

Gibbs stopped once they were inside. He'd been in this cafe plenty of times before. When he would go running with Kelly, they always ended up grabbing a drink here. Gibbs pictured his daughter in the tangerine running jacket she always wore when it was cold. He looked to the door. _She came in_. He followed the patterned tile to the cashier. _Got her drink_. He glanced at an empty booth. _Sat down_. His eyes returned to the door. _And left_. _What happened next, Kell?_

Gibbs stepped outside and made his way to the abandoned payphone, avoiding a spilt styrofoam cup. He examined the receiver, buttons, and coin slot, but none of this conveyed any importance. From his new position, he surveyed the parking lot trying to picture Cole in a car or truck, watching his daughter.

Suddenly, a familiar scent hit his nose. Looking down at the sidewalk, the spilt drink wasn't just a stain on the cement. Gibbs bent down and picked up the cup, smelling the inside. Apples, peach, ginger, and cinnamon – "the harvest craze." It was Kelly's favorite mix of tea.

"Boss?" Tony called, having exited the cafe.

"DiNozzo."

He walked over to Gibbs with Ziva on his heels. "Three witnesses say Cole was hanging out in a white utility van for about a half hour before he talked to Kelly. When I asked them if they saw Kelly with him, all of their stories matched. He met her outside the door and they walked away, hand-in-hand."

Gibbs clenched his jaw.

"We know she would not go anywhere with him by her own will," Ziva ventured. "He must have been influencing her somehow."

"With what?"

Gibb's phone buzzed.

"Yeah. Gibbs."

"_Boss, he has an apartment._"

"Where McGee?"

"_1204 North Highland Square. Apartment 709_."

"Meet us there."

Gibbs flipped the phone shut and placed it back at his hip.

"What now, Boss?"

"Now we find the bastard."

* * *

New records seemed to be the trend today. The team met up with McGee only minutes after leaving the Java Hut. They wasted no time with updates in the parking lot, but filled McGee in during the elevator ride to the seventh floor. In turn, each of the agents pulled out their guns and filed down the hallway. Ziva and McGee flanked each side of the door to room 709, while Tony covered for Gibbs. He looked at his team members and they nodded back. With a swift, powerful kick, Gibbs blew out the door from the lock and charged inside, checking each and every corner before advancing further.

"Clear," McGee called from the kitchen.

"Clear," Tony yelled from the family room.

"Ziva?" Gibbs called.

"Gibbs, you might want to see this," she replied.

He led the other two to where her voice sounded from around the corner. Stepping into what Gibbs assumed was Cole's bedroom, he stopped short. The room was unfurnished except for a mattress shoved into a corner and covered with blankets. A dank, musty smell filled the entire room as if it hadn't seen sunlight for days. Ziva stepped forward and grabbed the pullchain of a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. When it flickered on, Gibbs found himself staring at thousands of pictures and newspaper clippings tacked to the walls. Some had lines of yarn connecting them. Others had highlighted sections or thick dark ovals marked over specific words. Several of the photos were pock-marked with holes as if someone had played a game of darts one hundred times over. However, all of the clippings and photos had one thing in common.

Each one was of Gibbs.

* * *

5:15 P.M.

Gibbs stared at the walls of Cole's bedroom. His own face looked back at him from every angle. At first, he was unsure of how to proceed. Ziva, Tony, and McGee were reading the newspaper clippings and looking at the pictures. The situation would not have worried him so much had Ziva remained silent.

"Gibbs. Over here."

She led him to a large portion of the collage marked off by red electrical tape. Gibbs wondered how in the world he had passed over it.

From the molding on the bottom of the wall to the edge of the ceiling were photographs of Kelly. Pictures of her with friends from school, with Maddie, at the gym, running through the park, studying in the library, at a supermarket. Some were from her early high school years, others were taken just weeks ago at training camp. There were even a few of her with Gibbs and the team outside of NCIS. Each of the articles from her track career were posted as well as the honor roll lists, graduation announcement, and a story about one of her drawings that had made it into a gallery. In the center of all this was a poster-sized sheet of paper that had her name in large bold letters, followed by a complicated schedule of her activities, week by week.

Gibbs's insides twisted and turned. What he thought was his worst nightmare had now transformed into several circles of hell. How could he not have noticed this bastard following his daughter for the past six or seven years?

"Get photos. Bag and tag everything. Get it all to Abby," he said, his voice shaking slightly.

The team stared at him, unsure if their boss was stable.

"NOW!"

Ziva and McGee instantly ran back to the car to get a camera and evidence bags. Tony waited while Gibbs stared at the pictures. More papers and graphs showed that Cole had been tracking the times at which Gibbs entered and left NCIS headquarters and aligning them with Kelly's schedule. He had circled yesterday's date as the last day of training camp and wrote several possible train departure times underneath. If Gibbs kept looking at the walls, he was going to shoot something.

The flash of a camera tore him from a calendar with Kelly's classes listed. He turned to see that Ziva and McGee had returned and were photographing and bagging the items tacked to the walls. He watched Ziva bag an article from one of Kelly's state track meets. The picture underneath the title was one he'd had framed and was now sitting on his desk at NCIS. It was of her being hoisted into the air by her teammates after taking them to first place in the 4 x 400.

"Get everything to the car. 20 minutes," he said.

"Boss –"

It took only one stare to halt any any more objections. Gibbs turned on his heel and left the apartment, leaving Tony, Ziva, and McGee to get back to work.

* * *

6:00 P.M.

Back at NCIS, the team minus Gibbs had taken the elevator down to Abby's lab, bins full of evidence in their hands. Unusual silence accompanied them as they entered the room and parked all the boxes on one of her lab tables, covering the entire surface. Upon hearing them, Abby left her desk where she had been hugging Bert close to her chest and watching a slideshow of pictures she had taken with Kelly.

"Oh my gosh. What is all of this?" she asked, her eyes popping at the number of bags and boxes before her.

"Evidence from Cole's apartment. These were on all of the walls in his bedroom," Tony answered solemnly. "Hopefully this will help us find Kelly."

Abby signed the chain of evidence sticker, pulled on some rubber gloves, and opened a ziplock full of photographs. "Where did he get all of these?"

"It looks like he took a majority of them himself, but others could be from Facebook. He probably got the newspaper articles online too," McGee offered.

"I thought Kelly did not post pictures on Facebook," said Ziva.

"She doesn't. But her friends can," Abby clarified, taking a closer look at an article about one of the criminals Gibbs put away. For a moment, the group was silent, watching Abby sort through the photos one by one.

McGee rubbed one of Abby's shoulders, trying to provide a little comfort. "Call us if you need any help, Abbs," he said. He followed Ziva out the lab door.

Tony stayed and watched the forensic scientist pull more and more pieces from the bins. Her hands were shaking so badly that one batch slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the ground, splaying in all directions. She and Tony knealt down to collect the photos when Abby spotted a picture of her and Kelly embracing just outside the front doors of NCIS. It was the day Kelly had left for training camp four weeks ago. Abby had whispered to Kelly how much she would miss her and to not get caught making out with any of the other recruits. She remembered the girl giggling and squeezing her tighter.

As Tony watched Abby run her fingers along the edges of the paper, a tear slid down her pale cheek. "Oh my God," she said in a hoarse whisper.

Soon she had a hand clamped over her mouth, trying to hold back sobs that emanated from the core of her body. When Tony wrapped his arms around her, she clutched onto his shirt. He kissed the perfect part between her pigtails.

"Tony..."

He didn't trust himself to speak. Instead, he tried to swallowed the lump building in his throat.

"Tony, what if she's –"

"She's not," he said stubbornly. "She can't be."

"Tony –"

"It's the one thing we can bet on. Gibbs would know if she..." he tried swallowing again. "If she were, he would know."

Abby looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears.

"C'mon, Abbs. You've gotta find something that can get us to her."

She took in a deep breath and rubbed the moisture off her cheeks. Checking into "work" mode, Abby turned to the piles of photos, chose several specific pictures, and placed them in her fuming box where she then pumped heated superglue. Not wanting to interrupt her process, Tony simply squeezed her arm on his way out the door.

"Tony?" she called. He spun in the doorway.

"Yeah Abbs?"

"Any chance I can get a Caf-Pow!?" she asked between sniffs.

"Coming right up."

* * *

8:00 P.M.

Two hours ago, the team had dropped everything they'd found in Cole's apartment on Abby's table and walked away. Two hours ago, McGee put out a BOLO on a white utility van. Five minutes later, he'd trekked back to the lab and began helping their forensic scientist. Two hours ago, Tony and Ziva began cross-examining the first case file with what they had found today. Two hours ago, Gibbs had been ready to yell and punch and scream and kick and open fire all at the same time.

He didn't know how much longer it would be before he set out on his own to find this bastard and fire a hundred rounds through his head.


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the NCIS characters.

11:45 P.M.

Gibbs was furious with himself and with his team. Why hadn't they been able to figure out where Kelly was already? What the hell were they missing? Surely this bastard wasn't as smart as he thought he was. Gibbs's mind flashed to the first time he'd launched himself after Cole. The agent did not need to look through the case file to remind himself of the torture methods and brutal states which nine young women had endured and were found in. The encounter played through his head like scenes running through a projector. Finding the ninth body, scanning the evidence, trailing the perv, and finally feeling the sweet click of handcuffs. The only memory worse than finding the women's bodies was when he had heard about the escape.

Gibbs yearned to go release the tension building in his muscles by working on his boat, but he wouldn't dare leave NCIS headquarters in case some bit of information happened to turn up. So far, Abby hadn't been able to find anything that would bring them closer to Kelly, but he knew she was just as determined to find his daughter as the rest of the team. Regardless, he would always resent waiting.

Because he wouldn't go home, Gibbs took refuge in the back row of the MTAC mini-theater. He sat, staring off into space. Everyone but Gibbs's team and the Director had gone home for the day which left the conference center blissfully dark and quiet. Although the peace of MTAC was better than the squad room, his stomach remained a ball of knots, twisting and squeezing tighter and tighter every time he thought of Kelly.

Feeling a vibration at his hip, Gibbs slipped his cell phone from its holder and flipped it open. The screen lit up MTAC with a blue glow.

"Gibbs."

"_Boss, a BOLO came up for the van_."

He stood and launched himself out of MTAC.

"DiNozzo, get the car," he shouted from the stairs.

"On it, Boss."

_Hold on, Kelly_.

* * *

12:00 A.M.

McGee had managed to find coordinates that coincided with the BOLO and logged them into his computer. He guided Gibbs through the streets of D.C. to a narrow road leading off into a small field. The team got out to find a white van parked in the middle of the lane. Guns drawn, they crept towards it, ready to fire. Gibbs and Tony carefully peeked into the front seat, only to discover an empty seat trashed with take-out receipts and the keys in the ignition. Ziva yanked open the rear doors and shined her flashlight inside. It was empty. All that was left in the back of the van was a plastic bag of zip ties.

Filled with rage, Gibbs slammed one of the back doors. A small, dark rectangle dropped into the newly fallen snow. McGee bent down to pick it up. Wiping off the snow with his sleeve, he frowned.

"I think this is her phone, Boss." Gibbs turned to him and watched as the techie tried turning the blackberry on. The screen glowed for only a second before going black again. "The battery's dead."

"Gibbs! Over here," Ziva shouted from about fifty feet in front of the car. She was focused on the ground as if she were tracking something. Gibbs jogged over to her and looked to where she pointed a finger at the ground. Four smooth dents were caved into the snow and a separate set of tire tracks led away from where the two agents stood. Staring out at the horizon, Gibbs saw where the trail ended and the smooth, recently plowed blacktop began. Once again, their lead went cold.

Ziva followed his gaze. "They are the same tire patterns as the van. He had a second vehicle waiting. Possibly the same model?"

The familiar buzz of his phone grabbed Gibbs's attention before he could respond to Ziva's theory. An unrecognized number lit up the screen. Suddenly, his core felt tremendous amounts fury and fear all at once. He brought the cell to his ear and answered, waiting to hear the bastard's voice. No one replied. Not even a dial tone. Just before he was about to shut the device, its blue screen lit up for a second time, but with a message informing him of an incoming something-or-other.

"McGee!" he yelled.

"Yes, Boss."

"Figure this thing out," he demanded, tossing his phone through the air. McGee caught it a couple inches above the snow. The techie flicked it open and lightly tapped a series of buttons.

"You've got a new picture message," he said. After a moment's pause, McGee's jaw dropped.

Something was wrong. "What is it, McGee?" he asked angrily, impatience overruling the rest of his emotions. McGee silently handed the phone out to his boss. Reading a distinct form of dread in the probie's eyes, Gibbs slowly retrieved his cell phone and looked to the glowing image. It took one glance to initiate the nightmare Gibbs had been avoiding since the second he knew Kelly was in danger.

She illuminated the screen before him, but it wasn't the daughter he remembered. This Kelly was secured to a straight-back chair with a shining piece of duct tape sealing her mouth shut. Gone were her running jacket and shirt, leaving her exposed in a purple sports bra and her shorts. Her ponytail had been pulled askew and was hanging awkwardly at the base of her neck. Sweat and dirt covered her face, arms, and stomach, leaving ugly splotches against her skin. Two large bruises were blossoming by her ribs and a set of three parallel gashes ran from her left shoulder to the middle of her chest, tearing through part of the the shoulder of her sports bra and dripping blood. Her eyes were wide with an emotion Gibbs only remembered seeing when she would wake from nightmares in the middle of the night as a child. Beneath the picture, a message appeared.

_Doesn't she look_ lovely_?_

Gibbs dropped the phone, walked to the edge of the road, and retched.

* * *

1:00 A.M.

The ride back to headquarters had gone by in deafening silence. Each agent sat stiffly, on edge, as if they were expecting another catastrophe any minute. McGee had saved Gibbs's phone from the wet snow and pocketed it so Abby might have something else to compare evidence with. When they'd made it back to NCIS, he beelined to her lab to show her the picture that was haunting them all.

She spun on her heels when the elevator sounded. "McGee! Was she –"

"No." He cut her off because he didn't know how much he would be able to recount or how much more Abby could handle. What he was about to show her would explain. "Abby, we didn't find Kelly, but her cell phone was left in the van. The battery's dead, but we need to know if she tried communicating with anyone."

With shaking fingers, she gingerly took the phone from his palm and ran her thumb over the screen, wiping a track through the film of dirt. Her breathing became shallow. "McGee," Abby paused, sniffling, "how do we know if she's still alive?"

McGee examined her distraught face and took a deep breath. "Abbs..." he began cautiously.

Confusion crossed her face, but she remained silent.

"Abby, Gibbs got a message on his phone when we were at the scene," he said, taking out his boss's cell phone. Before pulling up the image, he warned her. "It's not pretty."

She hugged herself to provide some minimal form of warmth and gave a small nod. Upon seeing the picture, her hands flew to her face and brand new tears filled her eyes. McGee quickly opened his arms to her and tried to settle her shaking frame. For a moment, neither of them said a word.

"You guys have to find her. You have to, McGee," she mumbled, pushing away from him slightly. "Where's his phone?"

"Abby, take a breath. Just give yourself a minute, okay?"

"Kelly doesn't have a minute, McGee! We don't know what the hell that pervert has done to her or where he's got her. She's tied, half naked, to a freaking chair in the dead of winter." Abby was yelling now, tears running freely down her cheeks. _Get it out, Abby,_ McGee thought, standing, watching her silently. She pointed fiercely at her computers. "I haven't been able to come up with a single, infinitesimal connection with the first case, except now we have proof that he's torturing her and it's driving me insane, not to mention, Gibbs is probably ready to shoot everyone where they stand!" Her arms dropped at her sides with an audible flop.

"Not everyone, Abbs," Gibbs said quietly from the doorway, making them both jump. "Just one."

Abby hastily wiped the wet tracks from her cheeks and returned to her usual spot in front of her monitor. Gibbs walked up beside her and placed a Caf-Pow! next to the phones McGee had delivered. He positioned a hand in between her shoulder blades and watched her closely. Her quivers died the tiniest bit.

"Gibbs, I'm sorry, but I just don't have anything. I've been through each picture and article from Cole's apartment, but all I could find were his fingerprints. Nothing's connecting. I'm so sorry."

"What about the phones? Can you get anything from them?" he asked.

"McGee just brought them down. Since hers got wet, I'm going to have to dry it completely before I can check anything. I can take a closer look at yours. There m-might be something to find in the picture." She swallowed hard.

"Can you trace it back to Cole?"

McGee answered this time. "Only if he makes another call."

Gibbs turned and walked to the door. "Find him."


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the NCIS characters.

1:15 A.M.

Racing against time, Abby and McGee had set to work instantly, drying the separate parts of Kelly's blackberry and logging Cole's number into the system. It didn't take long before Abby had Kelly's phone hooked up to her computer, displaying the latest messages and calls that had been sent to or from her number. After sorting through the messages by date and time, Abby's hopes dropped again.

"Kelly tried to send Gibbs a text, but it didn't go through," she said. Taking another glance at the data, Abby noticed something odd. "Her 911 call didn't go through either. She must have been seriously out of range."

"Or Cole had a device that blocked the signal. Why would she call someone if she knew there wasn't a connection, though?"

She sent him a disapproving glance. "What would you do if you were taken hostage, McGee?"

"If 911 didn't even work? I'd try to send out a message regardless," he admitted with a sigh.

"Wait..." Abby scrolled through Kelly's pictures, bypassing photos of friends, a sunset, some art pieces, and a concert she went to last summer. At the very end of the file, five photos were dated from yesterday evening. Abby waited anxiously while her computer uploaded the pictures. The first image finally filled the screen. It was dark, pixelated, and blurry, but with a few adjustments, the forensic scientist managed to produce a grainy snapshot taken from inside the van. The photo was captured looking out the back window to show a line of forest on the horizon. The other four were taken from the same position, but with different scenery. One had a narrow river, another had a bridge. Neither Abby nor McGee recognized any of the landmarks.

"She knew one of us was going to find her phone," McGee said, realization washing over him. "She risked getting caught to get these pictures. It's almost as if she was..."

"...acting like an agent," Abby finished sadly.

After an hour of staring at the monitors, McGee had decided he would work better with some caffeine. He left Abby with a promise to be as quick as possible, but his words barely registered because she was completely focused on the image from Gibbs's phone. Unable to look at the entire photo without crying, Abby had zoomed in and was highlighting specific portions of the image, hoping to find anything that would give away Cole's location. One corner of the photo revealed a window well behind Kelly's chair. Another portion of the photo showed part of a workbench burdened with tools.

Abby balanced out the saturation from a segment to Kelly's right. The outlines of a large, boxy object sharpened. She fiddled with the contrast levels to reveal an old fashioned wood burning stove in the corner of the room. At that moment, a connection clicked in Abby's head.

"Oh my gosh."

She scrambled through Cole's first case file to a section with the crime scene photographs. Laying them out on the table, she pressed a speed dial button on her phone speaker.

"_Yeah, Gibbs._"

"Gibbs, you've got to come down here now."

"_On my way._"

The line went dead and Abby hung up. Not twenty seconds later, the elevator dinged and she could hear his stride on the hard epoxy flooring.

"What've you got, Abbs?"

"I think I know where Cole is keeping Kelly. We recovered some pictures from her phone. She sent us a trail, Gibbs. Kelly obviously knew that you would look for her and someone would find her phone. These are the photos," she explained, bringing them up on the plasma. He walked around her desk and surveyed them. "That's not all."

Gibbs ripped his gaze from the television and looked to her.

"I fiddled with the picture he sent to your phone. She's in a basement of some kind," Abby continued. "Look at this picture." She picked the top photo from the first case file stack and held it up. He took it from her. Examining the far corner, he saw a very familiar wood burning stove and workbench. His jaw clenched.

"Gibbs..."

He promptly kissed her cheek and grabbed his cell phone from her table. "Good work, Abby," he said gratefully.

Before she could utter another word, he sped out of her lab.

* * *

2:30 A.M.

Flying through the night, the jade-colored car became a blur in the scenery. Gibbs pushed the engine to sixty miles an hour and streamed along the slippery roads, occasionally rounding a tight corner or slipping through a side street. He finally stopped after turning onto a narrow road leading towards a grove of snow-covered trees. Pulling out one of the pictures from Kelly's phone, he opened his door and stood to gain a better view. The trees aligned perfectly with the printout in his hand. With a new wave of hope, Gibbs got back into the car and followed a particularly familiar set of tire tracks.

* * *

2:30 A.M.

Tony walked into Abby's lab which was still abnormally silent due to the lack of music. He was about to ask her if she had any luck with the phones when she whirled on the spot to face him. Tony was startled.

"Tony? Why are you still here?" she asked abruptly, seriously puzzled. As quick as the confusion came, it left, leaving recognition in its wake. "Oh my God. He went alone."

Tony snapped into full special agent mode. "Where?" he asked without hesitation.

Abby brought up all of the photos on her computer. Both of them winced when the photo of Kelly filled her monitor. "The photos match the location from the first case, but Tony, it says that this cabin burned down when they found the last victim," she answered, now flipping through the case file.

"Where, Abbs?"

"Near the border of Anacostia River Park about a quarter mile west of the river."

Just then, McGee came back to the lab, coffee in hand. "What's going on?"

"C'mon, McGee. Let's go," Tony said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to the elevator.

"Where?" he asked, confused.

"To get Kelly."

* * *

Gibbs parked his car next to a white utility van identical to the one they found earlier that night.

Stepping out into the middle of Anacostia River Park, he looked around, matching a photo from Kelly's blackberry for the fifth time.

_Alright, you got me this far. Don't stop now._

Circling the van, he noticed a series of footprints heading west. Deja vu washed over him as he trekked through the silent woods. Memories tucked in the back of his mind became his guide tonight, recognizing the trails and landmarks. It was as if ten years had been no impact on his senses to this place. With each recollection, he gained more speed, assuring himself he could find the location a second time. Several minutes later, he jogged into a small clearing. A cabin sat at the West edge, giving off a faint glow under the full moon.

* * *

Tony and McGee clung to the inside of the car as if their lives depended on it. Ziva drove, following the instructions McGee narrated to her as he tracked Gibbs's cell phone from the laptop balanced on his knees. The car careened this way and that, speeding through the slick roads of Anacostia River Park. Finally, they stopped next to Gibbs's car and the white van. The moon's illumination of the forest pressed an eerie atmosphere upon them as they examined the area. Tony quickly spotted the trail of footprints and the three members of Team Gibbs proceeded west to search for their boss and his tortured daughter.


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the NCIS characters.

3:00 A.M.

Snow crunched underneath his boots as Gibbs darted for the shabby cabin planted at the westernmost edge of the clearing. Heartbeats pulsed through his ears, deafening every other step. Upon reaching a pile of logs built beneath the only window, he crouched and inched his way towards the door. Nothing moved inside the shack as he effortlessly picked the lock securing the door in place.

Using his shoulder, Gibbs shoved open the charred door and quickly swept the area with his gun, carefully checking every spot twice. The cabin consisted of only two rooms and after scoping out the adjoining room, he discovered Kelly wasn't in either one. Remembering Abby's findings and his initial pursuit through this cabin, Gibbs walked back into the first room and cast his gaze to the floor. Filthy and ragged, a distressed rug covered most of the moldy floorboards in front of similarly decaying couch. Carefully stepping around the edges, he picked up a corner and pulled it back to reveal a hidden cutout in the floor. With one deep breath, Gibbs swung open the trapdoor.

The staircase leading down into the basement was exactly the same as the day Gibbs had found the ninth victim: rotting. Making sure not to lose his footing, Gibbs planted himself with his gun outstretched, ready to fire. One step at a time, he lowered himself into the damp basement, shining his flashlight in every direction. Halfway down the staircase, he could see moonlight flooding in from the far left. Gibbs slowly continued his descent, letting out the breath he'd been holding when both of his feet finally touched even ground.

Forcing himself to take one last sweep of the basement, Gibbs confirmed that Cole was not waiting behind any obstacles. The sight which pierced his mind next was far worse than any case Gibbs had ever encountered. As if it were a scene from a horror film, Kelly was anchored to a chair by fifty or sixty zip ties running from her wrists to just above her elbows and also down her legs. An iridescent glow from the window well fell upon her back and casted elongated shadows on the cement floor. Her head hung to her chest, defeated. The gashes and bruises Gibbs had seen in the picture seemed like mere scrapes compared to the state she was in now.

Momentarily forgetting all motor function, he stumbled over to the chair where she sat shivering. With trembling fingers, Gibbs carefully pulled a knife from his pocket and began cutting the ties by her left elbow, avoiding a pool of vomit next to the chair. As he worked his way down her arm, he noticed several of her fingers were bent in odd directions and bruised all over. He was almost to the middle of her forearm when her head jerked upwards.

If the silver strip of duct tape had not been covering her mouth, her scream would have echoed for the next mile.

"Kelly! Look at me," he rushed, trying to calm her. "It's really me." It took her a long moment to realize the man before her was truly her father. A fair amount of relief shined through the tears in her clear green eyes.

"Kelly, just save –"

Another muffled yell interrupted his words. She was staring, wide-eyed, over his shoulder.

Following her line of sight, Gibbs ducked just in time as Cole swung a shovel where his head had been just milliseconds before. Cole advanced, forcing Gibbs to the ground and sending his knife flying across the basement. Both men were swinging and ducking punches, trying to find the other's weak spot. They tumbled around Kelly, huffing and grunting. After an extremely lucky head-butt, Cole had managed to free himself from Gibbs's grasp and flee the basement, grabbing a small, black object from the workbench on his way up the staircase. Gibbs pulled out his gun, shooting the steps as Cole climbed them. In fear of losing his target, Gibbs dashed up the stairs without a backwards glance, leaving Kelly all alone.

* * *

3:20 A.M.

Panting heavily, Tony, Ziva, and McGee emerged from the forest and peered across the empty clearing. Without a moment's hesitation, they broke into another sprint and quickly closed the gap between themselves and the burnt cabin. Peering into the shack, Tony told McGee to check the perimeter while he and Ziva would search inside. McGee took off, crouched low with his gun and flashlight leading the way. Ziva and Tony took out their own weapons and snuck through the door which had been cracked open. Entering the cabin, the agents split up to search each room.

"Clear."

"Ziva, check this out," Tony said, pointing his gun at the trapdoor.

They crept closer, shining their flashlights down the staircase. Tony slowly started down the steps and Ziva acted as cover, noting every sound and movement in the room. A muffled murmur struck her ear.

"Tony!" she whispered.

Shifting his weight on the steps, he continued his descent and she followed. His flashlight beam struck the straight-back chair and its prisoner.

"Kelly?" Tony called with disbelief.

Ignoring the pain, Kelly whipped her head upwards and watched them rush to her, yelling against the duct tape all the while. Her heart was beating overtime and it was becoming harder and harder to breathe through her nose. Tony knealt in front of her, looking her in the eye. Giving her a quick once-over, he lifted his hand to her cheek and she could feel him pinch one edge of the duct tape between his fingers.

"This is going to hurt," he said remorsefully, watching her expression.

_I know_, she thought, nodding slightly and shutting her eyes tight.

Fire exploded over her lips and cheeks making her eyes water and spill over. Sucking in a huge breath, she felt her lungs expand with musty air.

"Kelly, everything's going to be –"

"No. It's not," she interrupted, feeling a new definition of raw sting in her throat. She was surprised at the raspiness of her own voice caused from hours of yelling. "Start thinking funny thoughts. Ziva's going to need a distraction."

"Why?"

"There are five blocks of C4 strapped to the bottom of this chair and I have no idea what the timer's at." She took another shuddering breath, trying to remain calm. Ziva instantly knealt on the floor and tilted her head to see the explosives wired to a digital timer.

"It is alright, Kelly. Two minutes and forty-seven seconds."

Remembering the brawl that took place only minutes beforehand, Kelly shook her head.

"Cole's got a remote detonator. It's a dead-man switch."

*****

Hello faithful readers! Thank you so much for your interest in my story - it means more than I can tell. The next couple chapters are intense and action-packed, so hang on tight. They're also organized somewhat oddly, but I'm writing them as I have always seen them in my head and I think you'll understand my methods when they are all posted. For the most part, I'm happy with these few chapters, but I'm also fully aware that many of the actions in this chapter and the next one would be highly unlikely. Gibbs would never let some guy head-butt him, let alone leave Kelly without promise to come back! But, alas, it sets up the direction for the rest of the story. Thanks again, from the bottom of my heart, for reading and reviewing.


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the NCIS characters.

Kelly didn't miss the worried glance shared between the two agents. She heard Ziva flick open a switchblade and slide underneath the chair. Once again, Kelly returned her chin to her chest and prayed Ziva could disengage the timer before an invisible force set it off.

"Ziva, what's your fastest time?" Tony asked Ziva light-heartedly.

"Twelve seconds," Ziva replied from beneath the chair. Kelly was immensely grateful when Tony slipped his hand into hers and began squeezing in random beats so as to distract her as well.

"Ah. Comforting," he said casually. "Dinner's on me if you can set a new one."

"That depends. Are you willing to pay for the Malt House?"

Tony scrunched up his face. "She hadto pick the most expensive restaurant in D.C."

"I take that as a yes?" she asked with a grin, righting herself and holding out several wires connected to the frozen timer in her palm.

Relief flooded through Kelly's body like a warming serum. She barely noticed the agents cutting through the zip ties when a bolt of pain ricocheted through her hand and up to her shoulder. Somehow, she had managed to bite down on her lip to stifle a scream. Kelly barely heard Tony's apology as blood pooled in the front of her mouth.

Looking down at her broken wrist and fingers, anguish filled her mind. Three more zip ties were binding her to the arm of the chair, all of them pulled painfully tight. She tilted her head towards the ceiling and clenched her jaw.

"Kelly..."

"Just do it," she huffed through her teeth.

Tony clipped the last three zip ties, each of which was followed by a pang of excruciating fire winding its way up her arm. For the next couple minutes, the only sounds heard were the snips of the plastic ties being cut and falling to the floor. Before long, Kelly was free from the chair. She took an attempt at standing up, but fell back into the seat. Tony and Ziva helped her stand, making sure she remained upright. After a couple of steps, Kelly could finally feel her legs again even though they had the stability of Jell-O. One foot after the other, she managed to make it to the stairs. At this point, Tony refused to let her climb them alone and put her arm around his shoulders, half-carrying her up the steps.

"Tony? Ziva?" called someone from the front room.

"Over here, Probie," Tony called, emerging through the trapdoor with Kelly.

McGee turned and rushed to them. "Kelly! Oh my God!" His jaw dropped when the three of them reached the top.

"I'm okay, McGee" Kelly said, removing her arm from Tony's shoulder and stretching out her stiff legs. She watched McGee as he peered down the stairs expectantly.

"Where's Gibbs?" he asked.

All of the trepidation Kelly had been suppressing instantly returned full force.

"You didn't see him outside?" she asked, panic rising in her voice. Everyone froze.

McGee had just barely shook his head when Kelly bolted for the front door.

"Kelly! No!"

Her mind didn't have time to register the pain pulsating throughout her body or the calls Tony shouted at her. She sprinted out the door, feeling the shock of the mid-winter chill on her skin. Both of her feet broke through the smooth layer of fallen snow, leaving behind a trail of prints. Following two sets of tracks created by larger, heavier strides, she rounded one side of the cabin and took off towards a dense line of trees.

With each footfall, Kelly prayed harder and harder. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She was not going to let her father become one of Cole's victims. In her mind, she figured he had searched the entire night, pushing his team to their limits on her account. She had thought of little else while Cole had bound her, teased her, tortured her, and left her in the basement to die. Now it was her turn to ensure her father's safety – to prevent him from taking the fall as he had done for her innumerable times before.

Bare branches scratched at her arms and legs as Kelly sprinted through the forest. With the moonlight illuminating her path, she kept her eyes on the footprints in front of her. Every stride intensified the aches in her muscles and the tormenting throb in her arm, but each step pushed her that much farther in the right direction. She was certain her gut would know if her dad had been hurt. Right now, it was the only thought that kept her running, barefoot, through the snow.

Kelly followed the tracks straight west through the line of trees. After tearing through the forest, she stumbled into a small clearing and followed the remaining footprints with her eyes. The sight struck her with fear. About fifty yards from where she stood, Cole was standing ten feet opposite her father, gun drawn, aimed at Gibbs's forehead. He was speaking, but she couldn't make out the words. In his other hand, he held the now useless detonator.

_No!_

Kelly did the only thing she could think of.

"DAD!"

Her piercing yell turned both of their heads. A poisonous grin spread across Cole's face and, as quick as lightning, he waved the gun in Kelly's direction.

A bang echoed through the night.

"NO!"

Kelly didn't understand why she was suddenly face-down on the ground. Something heavy was keeping her there. Struggling against the weight, she pulled her face from the snow and tried to focus on the wrestling match now going on between Cole and her father. She pushed against ground, ignoring the pain shooting through her arm, and tried to stand. The body that had pinned her to the ground now aided her as she regained her balance, but it also restrained her. Kelly fought with everything that was left inside. Nothing mattered more than getting to her father's side.

"ZIVA!" Tony's voice shouted in her ear.

"I do not have a clear shot," she yelled back.

He didn't budge as Kelly concentrated all of her effort on escaping his hold.

"ZIVA, NOW!"

For the second time that night, a gunshot ripped through the air.

Kelly froze. She stared across the clearing.

Cole's body swayed and arched toward the earth, causing snowflakes to flutter in whorls around his torso. Gibbs carefully got to his knees and stood, massaging his knuckles. He slowly stepped over to Cole's body and surveyed the scene. Blood seeped into the snow under Cole's head. Bending down, Gibbs checked for a nonexistent pulse.

Suddenly, Tony's panicked yell cut into the silence.

"GIBBS!"

Gibbs whipped his head just in time to see Kelly collapse in Tony's arms.


	11. Chapter 10

Thank you everyone who has been following from the beginning and also thank you to those who just started reading. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate seeing the traffic bars on my stories rise higher and higher. I'm sorry this one took much longer, but as you can see, it's almost triple the size of my normal chapters. Thank you for your patience. Please tell me what you think! Enjoy!

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of the NCIS characters.

3:20 A.M.

Tony tore through the trees, Ziva and McGee hot on his heels. They burst through the forest and stopped short at the edge of a round clearing. Spotting the tattered cabin, Tony took off instantly, pushing his legs harder and harder against the frozen ground. Closer to the shack, he slowed and crouched beside the door, catching his breath. While pulling out his weapon, Tony analyzed the situation and quickly determined the best way to proceed.

"McGee, take a loop around the perimeter. Ziva and I are going inside."

He watched McGee unholster his gun and disappear around the corner. Locking eyes with Ziva, he nodded. After a mental count to three, both agents twisted into the doorway: one aiming high, the other aiming low. Ziva proceeded to search through the second room while Tony checked every crevice in the living area.

"Clear," Ziva called.

The senior field agent was still searching when the beam of his flashlight fell upon a disgusting rug, sloppily tossed aside to reveal a trapdoor.

"Ziva, check this out," he said, motioning to the cut out floorboards with his gun. Inching closer, Tony aimed his flashlight into the darkness to expose several moldy stairs. Making sure Ziva was covering him, he began his descent with careful footing. As he was about to lower himself to the third step, a moan sounded from below.

"Tony!" Ziva warned in a harsh whisper behind him.

Shifting his weight, Tony continued downward into the dark, his nose filling with must. At last, both of his feet touched the basement floor and Ziva followed a second later. Taking a breath, Tony turned his flashlight and laid eyes upon one of the most haunting scenes of his life.

_Oh. My. God_.

Moonlight filtered through a large window well onto Kelly's slight frame, creating an ghostly glow around her hanging head and shoulders. He could see the plastic zip ties running down her arms and legs, the bruises blooming on her ribs, the trio of gashes running from her left shoulder to the middle of her chest. He had never seen her look so defeated, so violated, so broken.

"Kelly?"

Her head shot up at the sound of his voice and she started yelling muffled calls against the duct tape. It sent chills through his spine, but also relief through his heart. Realizing she really was conscious, Tony rushed to her and knealt in front of her legs, watching her struggle to breathe. As he looked into her eyes, he realized that he'd never seen them filled with so much worry, pain, and terror as they were now. Quickly assessing her position, he pinched one edge of the duct tape between his fingers. Tony hated that he was about to cause her more agony.

"This is going to hurt," he contritely warned.

Kelly's eyes pleaded with him to get it over with. She nodded slightly and Tony waited for her to shut both eyes tight. With one sharp tug, he pulled off the tape and watched as a red rectangle blistered over her lips and cheeks. Tears spilled from her eyes and she sucked in a deep, gasping breath.

"Kelly," he said, switching into big brother mode, "everything's going to be –"

She cut him off early. "No. It's not." Her voice came out harsh and gravely. "Start thinking funny thoughts. Ziva's going to need a distraction." He was severely confused by her rushed words. She would be free in just a few minutes.

"Why?"

"There are five blocks of C4 strapped to the bottom of this chair and I have no idea what the timer's at," she explained, visibly trying to hold herself together.

Tony's heart stopped. Next to him, Ziva squatted and glanced underneath the chair. He snuck a peek. Sure enough, five army-green bricks were taped to the underside of the chair, all of them connected by several braids of multi-colored wire. A digital timer was secured in the middle.

"It is alright, Kelly. Two minutes and forty-seven seconds," Ziva said. That would be more than enough time for her to disengage the bomb. Again, Tony was confused when Kelly shook her head.

"Cole's got a remote detonator. It's a dead-man switch."

He glanced to Ziva and caught her eye, sharing the same muted thought.

_Shit_.

Now he understood why Kelly hadn't made more of an effort to struggle against her restraints. Ziva opened her switchblade with a flick and crawled under the chair. Surely she could disengage a bomb being controlled by a man with a sick obsession for torture directly linked to his trigger-happy thumb.

"Ziva, what's your best record for bomb-disengaging?" Tony asked in a simply curious tone. Anything to lessen the pressure.

He saw her grin a little. "Twelve seconds," she said, as if they were discussing the weather.

"Ah. Comforting," he said sarcastically. "Dinner's on me if you can set a new one." Glancing back at Kelly, he noticed she had her head bent down again and her eyes were shut tight. Tony realized she needed more distraction than Ziva so he grasped her right hand and squeezed it in beats, trying to take her mind off one of the potential outcomes.

"That depends. Are you willing to pay for the Malt House?"

It was Tony's turn to scrunch up his face.

"She had to pick the most expensive restaurant in D.C." he said to the air. Kelly lips curled ever so slightly.

Ziva pulled herself out from under the chair, holding the timer frozen at 2:38. "I take that as a yes?" she asked, smiling.

Tony watched Kelly's eyes fly open and relief flood her face. He immediately moved to her side and took out the knife tucked safely in his boot. Carefully weaseling its tip through the small gap made between Kelly's arm and the chair, he pulled back, severing a zip tie.

Without warning, Kelly's head flung backwards. Tony promptly lifted both his hands away from her arm, watching her face contort in pain. Ziva did the same. Kelly was biting hard on her lower lip to stifle the scream, but both agents heard it rumble in her throat.

Thinking he had accidentally cut her, Tony examined her arm and saw that all five fingers on her left hand were swollen, bruised, and bent in odd directions. "Sorry!" he tried, knowing it was no use. She was still focused on the ceiling, her chest rapidly rising and falling with each shuddering breath. Kelly looked to her hand with an intense mix of loathing and anxiousness. Three more ties taunted her freedom. Tony observed the way she braced herself, once again rolling her head back and forming her other hand into a tight fist.

"Kelly..." he began, not exactly sure what to tell her.

Veins stood out in her neck as she clenched her jaw.

"Just do it," she forced through her teeth.

_The faster the better_.Tony slipped his knife into the next gap and sawed through. It took everything in his power to ignore her winces and grunts and move on to the next one. Two more. One more. When he finished with her arm, he quickly glanced at Ziva and they immediately started working on the ties by her legs. Broken bits of plastic fell to the floor, making cracking noises when they hit the cement. Tony knew he'd never be able to look at a zip tie the same way again.

After he cut the final tie, Kelly rushed to stand, but fell back almost instantly. The agents lifted her under the arms and helped her regain her balance, one step at a time. Although Kelly made it across the basement by herself one wobbling step at a time, Tony wasn't about to watch her tackle the stairs. He swung her good arm over his shoulders and hoisted her up each step, carefully monitoring her face for any sign of pain. Half-way up the staircase, Tony heard McGee's voice above them.

"Tony? Ziva?"

"Over here, Probie," Tony called back, poking his head through the cut-out in the floor. He heard McGee's hard steps coming closer as they finally emerged from the basement.

"Kelly! Oh my God!"

Seeing McGee's face after he laid eyes on Kelly made Tony wonder if his expression had been similar, if not more surprised, when they first found her.

"I'm okay, McGee," she said, proving her point by removing her arm from Tony's shoulder and stretching out her legs. He hovered at her side, still not comfortable with her physical state. He also wasn't pleased with McGee's worried expression as the agent peered around the trio to get a better view of the basement. Apparently, neither did Kelly because he felt her stiffen next to him.

"Where's Gibbs?" McGee questioned.

"You didn't see him outside?" Kelly asked, her voice full of dread.

As soon as McGee shook his head, Kelly bolted for the front door.

"Kelly! No!" Tony shouted after her, but she was already hurling herself through the door.

He faintly heard McGee and Ziva follow him out of the house. How Kelly was able to sprint barefoot through the snow, Tony didn't know. A couple minutes ago, she was gasping for air and could barely support herself. Even after spending half of a day, sitting, strapped to a chair, and almost completely naked in the dead of winter, Kelly was still faster than all of them.

"Kelly! Stop!" he tried again. It was no use.

He could barely see the tracks she was following around the side of the house into another thick line of trees. Tony shot after her, thinking she would slow down as they hit the woods, but the branches and roots had no effect on her speed. While Tony stumbled over the slick forest ground, Kelly seemed to lope over the fallen trunks and branches, never missing a beat.

At last, the trees thinned and Kelly slowed at the border of another small clearing. Thirty feet behind, Tony pushed to catch up with her, thinking she might faint. As he neared the edge of the woods, Tony could just make out the scene that had made her stop. Cole was aiming a gun at Gibbs's head in the middle of the clearing, speaking words Tony couldn't hear – probably some long, premeditated, dramatic monologue about how Gibbs ruined his life. Tony was gaining on Kelly fast, but he could not have been prepared for what happened next.

"DAD!"

With one swift motion, Cole had shifted his aim from Gibbs's forehead to Kelly's heart. Tony forced his body through space foot by foot, using all the energy he could muster.

A bang pierced the brisk night air. Simultaneously, Tony yelled "NO!" and launched himself onto Kelly, knocking them both to the ground. Suddenly, stinging pain in his upper arm told him that the blood staining the immaculately white layer of snow wasn't all Kelly's.

She struggled to escape his body weight. Tony knew if she had the chance, she would sprint to her father's side, ready to attack Cole with everything left in her system. While he couldn't let Kelly put herself in more danger, he also couldn't let her freeze against in the snow. Making sure he had an arm around her torso, Tony pulled her from the ground and strengthened his hold. Gibbs and Cole were wrestling fifty yards from where they stood. In the next few seconds, he felt the full force of her combat training in his feet, stomach, and arms.

"ZIVA!" Tony called desperately.

A black blur zipped past him. "I do not have a clear shot," she yelled.

Kelly's blows were still coming on strong, but he refused to budge.

"ZIVA, NOW!"

A shot rip through the air for the second time that night. Kelly froze in his arms, hypnotized by the scene. Tony didn't dare remove his restraining hold from her shoulders.

Beginning at his temple, blood streamed down the side of Cole's face. He then collapsed into the snow a couple feet away from Gibbs. Tony looked back to Kelly. She wasn't fighting him anymore; there was no need. Somewhat dreamily, her eyes stared at the spot where Cole had been standing. Alarms blared in Tony's head and a touch of dread idled in his gut.

"Kelly?" he whispered anxiously.

She swayed on the spot. _No, no, no_.

"GIBBS!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, leaning forward to catch her upper body before she fell, almost gracefully, to the ground. Thinking fast, Tony unzipped his coat and peeled it off.

"McGee, Ziva, give me your jackets," he ordered.

They cocooned her in the three coats. Tony placed his fingers at her neck, feeling for a pulse.

"What happened?" Gibbs shouted, sprinting to where they hovered around her.

"She collapsed. Her pulse is faint," reported Tony.

"Kell! C'mon Kell," Gibbs urged, kneeling down and rubbing her cheek. He checked her pulse for himself. It was then that he noticed the large stains of blood on the snow, but Tony was quick to reassure him.

"Don't worry. It's not all hers."

"Let's get her back to the house. McGee, call 911."

"Already on it, Boss," he said, pointing to the phone at his ear.

After waiting for Gibbs's count, Tony and Ziva helped him pick Kelly up and started jogging back the way they came. What seemed like a hundred feet between the cabin and the clearing had now become half a mile because of her dead weight. He could hear McGee behind them, shouting directions into his cell phone at the operator.

Tony's heart lifted slightly when the tattered shack came into view. Team Gibbs carefully carried Kelly inside and laid her down on the eroded couch. When the ambulance finally found its way through the park, several paramedics jumped from the front seat and had Kelly strapped to a gurney in the back of the vehicle within five minutes. Gibbs joined them and when Tony said he'd drive to the ER, his boss left no room for argument. Tony climbed into the front seat and waited out the silent ride as they rushed towards the hospital.

* * *

As soon as the ambulance parked itself in front of the hospital doors, two paramedics hurried from the front seat and expertly unhitched the gurney, wheeling Kelly through the emergency room doors with Gibbs holding onto her limp hand the entire way. Once inside, they called out her status and vitals to a new team of doctors and nurses who immediately crowded around the gurney. Gibbs barely understood the medical jargon being thrown all around him except for the occasional reference to blood loss, hypothermia, and lacerations – none of which he wanted to hear. He looked to Kelly's face; it wasn't peaceful, but it didn't express too much pain. Her skin was still ice cold: so foreign the usual warm, animated mood she radiated every day.

A woman in pale green scrubs jostled around Gibbs, trying to get an arm on the gurney. The group of nurses wheeled Kelly into a trauma room where they instantly covered her lower torso and legs with a foil heating blanket and began working on her arm, shoulder, and chest. He simply stood at the foot of the gurney, becoming more and more unnerved when a nurse injected fluids into an iv tube that appeared out of nowhere. Another lady in scrubs cut through the shoulder of Kelly's sports bra to begin cleaning the ragged set of parallel gashes.

Another doctor charged into the procedure, handing out orders left and right. Gibbs immediately recognized him. His name was Robert Hoffman and he had been one of Shannon's close friends from when she worked as an ER nurse at Bethesda. It didn't take long for the doctor to realize who his patient was. He took a brief moment to look at Gibbs, and the agent stared back.

Steady beeping from a corner of the small room intensified. Gibbs didn't miss the sideways glances between the nurses, constantly building with apprehension. They started flinging words with more syllables than Gibbs could count. He felt as though he had swallowed something too large for his throat.

"Hoffman, what's happening?" he asked, on edge.

"She's going into cardiac arrest," he responded between medical orders.

A woman in scrubs put her hand on Gibbs's shoulder, mildly pushing him towards the door. "We need you to go wait outside."

"If you think I'm going anywhere, you're damn wrong."

"Sir, I understand –"

"NO! You don't understand! That is my daughter on your table!"

Silence reigned in the small room except for the beeping monitor.

Dr. Hoffman looked up from where he was working on Kelly's chest. "Jethro, you're going to have to leave. I promise you'll be the first to know her condition, but right now, you need to wait outside. I'm not telling you to do it for us, I'm telling you to do it for her," he said, cautiously testing the boundaries.

Clenching his jaw, Gibbs took one last, pleading look at Kelly and turned to exit the trauma room. He didn't get much farther than a few feet before pivoting and slamming his fist into the wall with an outraged grunt. Bits of plaster and drywall crumbled to the ground. Breathing heavily, he tried to gather himself into a reasonable state. Gibbs knew he wouldn't be able to handle waiting right outside the room so he forced himself to continue down the hall to a bland waiting room, where the only person occupying a chair was Tony. His arm was newly gauzed and he was holding a steaming cup of coffee. The senior field agent stood as Gibbs closed the distance between them. Tony was about to speak when Gibbs clenched his jaw again for the hundredth time that night. Tony understood the situation from Gibbs's troubled stare.

"Tony –"

"No," he interrupted quickly, "I'm staying."

Gibbs intensified his gaze.

"Here," he said, holding out the coffee. "You're going to need this."

* * *

Ducky jolted awake when an elevator ping pulled him from the nap he'd been taking in McGee's chair. Straightening his glasses which had gone askew, he quickly checked the time on his watch. It was 4:30 in the morning. McGee and Ziva slowly filed out of the elevator and made their way to the dimly lit and deserted bullpen, save Ducky and Abby. The forensic scientist had fallen asleep at Gibbs's desk almost immediately after Ducky draped his coat over her shoulders. One of her hands still loosely clutched the computer mouse.

"Abigail," Ducky called out softly as he stood to greet the two agents. Abby's head shot up and she murmured something about losing evidence. As soon as she realized she was no longer dreaming, Abby jumped up from Gibbs's chair and hustled to Ducky's side.

The word "exhausted" could not do justice to the way McGee and Ziva looked when they walked into the bullpen. Ducky did not need to be a medical examiner to tell they had just fought through a small battle. Although he knew it was a major part of the job description for all field agents, Ducky could not help but feel sorry for them. Briefly pushing aside his emotions, the doctor wondered where the rest of the team was.

"Where are Jethro and Tony? Is everything alright?" he asked.

McGee and Ziva exchanged a loaded glance.

"They're at the hospital. With Kelly."

"Oh my God," Abby said, both relieved and nervous at the same time. "Are they hurt? Is Kelly okay? What happened?"

"Tony's right arm got scraped by a slug from Cole. Kelly..." McGee hesitated. "Kelly is pretty banged up. Ziva'll have to tell you the first part. I wasn't there."

Ducky and Abby looked at her expectantly. Taking a deep breath, Ziva began her story.

"When we got to the cabin, she was tied to the chair... you saw from the picture. She was conscious enough to inform us about several explosives underneath strapped to the bottom and to talk to us while we cut her loose. She was shaky, but could walk on her own. Actually, she was able to sprint through the forest when she found out McGee had not seen Gibbs outside." Ziva paused to think for a moment. She looked to McGee. "She must have known they were fighting."

McGee picked up where she left off. "We followed her. She ran to a clearing where Cole had Gibbs at gunpoint and shouted out, which obviously got Cole's attention. Tony pushed her to the ground before he could hit her, but the bullet grazed his arm. Gibbs started fighting again and Ziva managed to hit Cole. Right after that, Kelly passed out in the snow. We called the paramedics and they took her to Bethesda."

After a moment to take it all in, Abby gave both of them a hug.

"Are you two okay?" Ducky asked, looking them up and down.

"We're fine, Ducky."

"Good," he replied, turning to McGee's desk to collect his coat and bag. "Then I suggest you go home and get some rest. By the looks of that photo, I have a very strong feeling it's going to be a long day for everyone. There's no point in starting out exhausted. I'm going to the hospital to see what condition Kelly is in and I will call you in the morning."

Ducky slipped into his coat and headed for the elevator.

_Yes_, he thought. _Today is going to be a very long day_.

* * *

By 5:30, Gibbs was sure that he would be more comfortable in a straight-jacket crawling with fire ants. A circuit of images kept looping through his head like a broken television. Kelly tied to the chair with her head hung. Kelly looking at him with exponential amounts of terror and pain in her eyes. Kelly at the edge of the clearing. Kelly falling towards the earth. Kelly, limp, on the gurney.

The only interruptions were DiNozzo's occasional fidgeting and the nurses that repeatedly passed the waiting room. Every time one of them came close, Gibbs's chest went hollow and his veins turned to ice. This time, it was Ducky's gym shoes that broke the rhythm in his head.

The doctor made his way past the nurse's station and into the waiting room. "I am so terribly sorry, Jethro. How is she?"

_Broken_.

He swallowed. "She had hypothermia when we got here then went into cardiac arrest when they started working on her."

"Have you heard anything from the doctors?" Ducky asked.

"No."

"Oh, Jethro..." he trailed off.

Tony spoke up, looking down the hall. "Wait might be over."

Dr. Hoffman walked towards them with a clipboard in his hands. Gibbs stood, leading Tony and Ducky to meet the doctor halfway.

"Dr. Hoffman, this is Dr. Mallard and special agent DiNozzo. They work with me," Gibbs said quickly, getting introductions out of the way. The men shook hands.

"Jethro," he started, "we managed to revive Kelly's heart and increase her body temperature, but it's going slower than we expected. She lost a lot of blood."

Gibbs just waited.

"Seven bones in her left hand and wrist are broken. The lacerations across her chest were deep, but we were able to clean them out and close them with thirty-two stitches, which will cause minimal scarring. She also has two bruised ribs. The rest of the cuts on her face and torso will heal completely with time." Lowering the clipboard, he looked deep into Gibbs's eyes.

"Jethro, what –"

"How is she now?" Gibbs interrupted, avoiding the question he knew would be too painful to answer.

Hoffman sighed and took the hint. "She's resting in room 206 down the hall. It'll be a while before she regains consciousness. Right now we've got her on a ventilator until she can breathe by herself again."

"When can I see her?"

"Whenever you want. Although, I'd keep it to one visitor at a time."

"Thank you, Robert," he said, reaching out a hand.

The doctor shook it. "It's the least I could do, Jethro."

With a parting glance, Gibbs found the feeling in his legs and walked down the hallway, trying to prepare himself for what he was about to see. He could have had all the time in the world and it still would never be enough. Taking another steadying breath, Gibbs grasped the handle of room 206 and turned.

She was surrounded in white. They had dressed her in a hospital gown, but left her shoulder and collarbone uncovered, revealing a thick layer of gauze. Two iv tubes ran from her arm to suspended bags of fluid: one was clear, the other was labeled as blood. A blanket made from tiny pockets of water, which Gibbs assumed was heated, rested on top of the sheet already covering her. Her broken wrist was now set in a cast, and several small, white bandages held together the cuts on her face and neck.

A numbing sensation rolled through Gibbs's body. He pulled himself from where he'd been staring in the doorway to an orange plastic chair next to the bed. Coming closer he could see the dirt was gone from her face; it made her look years younger. He felt so completely useless. Helpless. Defenseless. Kelly had been unraveled, broken – again. One part of him wanted to reach out and hold her hand, to feel the reality of her, lying before him. Another part of him knew that if he brushed her skin with the lightest touch, she would crumble to a million pieces. Siding with the latter, Gibbs rested his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands, rubbing away the tears before they could fall.

* * *

Dr. Hoffman and Tony stood at the nurse's station, watching Gibbs through the window to Kelly's room. The doctor was the first to break the mild silence.

"I've known Jethro for over twenty years and I have never seen him this way – this tormented. Even when Kelly was here after the accident, he was hurting, no doubt about it, but this time..."

Tony just peered through the glass at Kelly's lifeless form.

"Agent DiNozzo," the doctor began again, "what happened to her?"

He knew that all the words in the world would never be able to describe the hell Kelly went through. Pursing his lips for a moment, Tony tried to think of the most accurate way to convey what he was thinking.

"She was kidnapped by a serial rapist and murderer Gibbs put away ten years ago."

Dr. Hoffman's face warped with shock. "Oh my Lord. How in the world did he get to her?"

"He escaped from prison about two months after he was caught. No one had recognized him until yesterday," Tony answered bitterly.

The doctor shook his head. "I don't know how you do it. All the things the rest of us can avoid by turning off the news or skipping over in the paper."

"Yeah, well, if we didn't do it, who would?"

His question went unanswered. They continued to watch Gibbs through the glass.

"Will she be okay, Doc?" Tony asked, not sure if he really wanted to hear the response.

"Physically, yes," he speculated. "Her bones will heal, the cuts will mend, bruises will go away. With physical therapy, her body will go back to its nearly pristine condition." He paused, considering a thought in his head. "Psychologically, I think that, with Jethro as her father, she will eventually recover. It might not be this month or this year, but eventually she'll be able to overcome it." He looked at the senior field agent.

_All of that is good_, Tony thought, _But it still leaves her heart_.

* * *

7:00 A.M.

Abby was carefully treading through the parking lot when she heard her name being called. She turned to see McGee jogging through the cars to meet her at the hospital doors.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked. She shook her head.

"Could you?" Abby countered, receiving another shake in return.

"What's in the bag?" McGee asked, gesturing to the shopping bag swinging from her hand.

"I stopped by the bossman's place and picked up some clothes for him and Kelly. I had the feeling she wouldn't want to leave in what she came in."

"Good thinking," McGee complimented.

They walked through the main lobby and came upon a reception desk. Asking for Kelly's room number, a woman in scrubs typed in her information on the computer and directed them to room 206. Abby was practically speed walking through the hallways to get to Kelly's room, dodging nurses with carts of medical supplies. Upon entering the waiting room, Ducky, DiNozzo, and Ziva all looked up to see the new arrivals. Dropping the bag of clothes, Abby took off at a sprint and swung her arms around Tony's neck.

"Oh my gosh, Tony. I was so worried when you didn't come back. Are you okay?"

"Hey, Abbs," he gasped, struggling to breathe through her tight hold. "I'm fine."

McGee didn't wait for any formalities. "How is she?" he asked, looking to each of them in turn.

It was Ducky who answered. "She went into cardiac arrest after they got her into trauma, but luckily, they managed to get her heart rate back to normal. The doctors are still working to raise her body temperature."

"Gibbs is with her now," Ziva added.

They all looked towards the room. Someone had shut the blinds from the inside.

"So," McGee said, "What happens now?"

"Now, we wait. But while we're waiting, we're going to get the paperwork done so Gibbs doesn't have to," Tony replied, gingerly pushing his arm through his coat sleeve. "Meet you at NCIS in twenty."

Ziva and McGee nodded.

"Ducky, will you..." McGee started.

"Of course, Timothy. I'll let him know you came by."

"Thanks, Ducky."

With that, the three agents turned around the corner, leaving Abby and Ducky in the waiting room. Abby sat down next to Ducky and rested her head on his shoulder. He gently wrapped an arm around her.

"Ducky? She'll be okay, right?"

He let out a deep sigh.

"My dear, only time will tell."


End file.
